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Would it help if I assure you that she is not a Mary Sue... and that the story gets better... and chapters will be coming quickly...?

Chapter 2: Daughter

Jade was stretched on Harry's bed, toying with his Sneakoscope, which was lying motionless beside her. "So, if it doesn't move, that means I'm a trustworthy person?"

Harry was sitting at his desk. "Yeah, something like that." Harry was happy to see the Sneakoscope validating his own instincts about her.

"Humph," she said scowling. "I must be losing my touch."

She lay back with her head on his pillow and stretched her hands upward playing with the ornate rings on her fingers, which she had proudly claimed to have stolen from a hag in her neighborhood. Her dark hair spread over his pillow as she crossed her ankles. She wore her usual short skirt and pink halter top.

She leaned up and surveyed him closely. "What's wrong with you, Harry? I've been coming here for five days now, practically throwing myself at you, and you've never made a move. Are you really that shy?"

Harry played it cool and smiled nonchalantly. "Maybe we're just not a good match."

Harry wasn't sure why he hadn't made a move on her. She was pretty and it probably would not be unpleasant to kiss her. She was a lot of fun to have around, and he had been sleeping a lot better. Of course, now that he was awake half the night, he was usually too tired to have nightmares. "I told you you'd be disappointed."

"That's okay." She slowly got up from the bed and sauntered up to him. "It just means that I have to make the first move."

Harry froze in his chair.

She slid onto his lap and put her arms around his shoulders. She smelled of rose hips.

He didn't like being so vulnerable. Before he had time to consider it further, she leaned forward and pressed her body against him. Suddenly, her lips were on his. Harry could taste a faint flavor of raspberry. She rhythmically moved her mouth and Harry, having no idea what else to do, mimicked her moves.

They separated and Harry took a steadying breath. "Um... I don't think -"

But he was silenced as Jade put a finger to his lips. "You're not supposed to think, Harry. Just do what feels right."

She bent close to him again and resumed kissing. Her mouth opened slightly and Harry felt her warm, bumpy tongue playing along his lips. Harry wondered if he should stick his tongue out, too. She seemed to know what she was doing and he didn't want to appear an idiot. He decided that he would try touching his tongue to hers.

But before he could try it, she pulled away and fixed him with a questioning gaze. "Haven't you ever kissed a girl before?"

Harry felt his face start to burn. "Of course I have!" he said defiantly. It wasn't a total lie. His teammates, Katie, Angelina and Alicia had all kissed him on more than one occasion. And Hermione had kissed him goodbye after they got off the train last year.

She raised her eyebrows slightly. "Oh? How many girls have you kissed?"

Harry averted his eyes from her gaze. "I don't know," he said quickly. "A couple, I guess."

She just looked at him for a moment then laughed.

Harry was very annoyed by now. "What is so funny?"

She stifled her laughter into a giggle. "You don't even know how to lie properly."

Harry glared at her. "I don't think I like you."

She gave him a pout. "Oh, don't be mad, Harry. I think it's cute."

This did not improve Harry's mood but before he could argue further, she had started kissing him again and all other thoughts were forgotten.

*****

"I would love to see the look on my father's face if I told him I was dating you." She laughed and tossed her hair back. "He'd be so mad. The veins in his temple would probably explode." She looked thoroughly overjoyed at this prospect.

"What are you talking about?" said Harry. "Why would he be mad?"

"Oh," she stopped as if just realizing that Harry was in the room. "Uh..." she said choosing her words carefully, "Well, he's not what I would call a big fan of yours. Sorry. He's just old fashioned. He believes the only good wizard is a pureblood wizard. I know, it's really stupid. I mean, I don't believe that." She looked at Harry sincerely.

"But, why me? My parents were a witch and a wizard."

"Oh...well, he seems to think you're the personal advocate and savior of all the mudbloods of the world," she said dramatically rolling her eyes, "...or something like that. I don't even listen to him when he starts babbling on about it. He thinks he's such an upstanding citizen," she added bitterly. She puffed up her chest and wrinkled her brow, "Mister Bernard Charles Nott, pillar of the community, blah blah blah, what shite!"

Harry had a sudden but vivid image of being surrounded by Death Eaters. And the voice, the voice of his nightmares, You will do better this time... The same goes for you, Nott.

Harry was on his feet. "Your father's name is Nott?"

She shrugged. "Yeah, can you believe it? Bernice is bad enough. But Bernice Nott? Honestly," she sneered, "it sounds like a troll's name."

She suddenly realized he was pointing his wand at her. He had done this before, but she had always managed to assuage his fears about her. "What's wrong? Why are you pointing your wand at me?"

"As if you didn't know! I knew I shouldn't have trusted you!" Harry was furious.

"What are you talking about, Harry?"

Harry wondered, could she really not know about her own father?

"Your father is a Death Eater!" shouted Harry with no concern of waking the Dursleys.

Her face showed no sign of surprise at Harry's accusation. Instead, it was indignation. "He is not! Take that back."

Harry tried to read the look on her face. He could never tell if she was lying or not. "He's a small man, isn't he?"

Her face fell a bit. "What of it?" she demanded.

"He's a Death Eater! I didn't see his face but how many Notts are there?"

She was defiant. "I don't know! Could be lots."

"Has your dad ever been accused of being a Death Eater?"

"What if he was? That means nothing!"

Harry gave her a skeptical look.

Her voice betrayed a slight sense of panic. "It was years ago. He's not now. He wouldn't... He promised."

Harry eyed her suspiciously. "I don't know who you're trying to fool but I think you better leave."

"You don't mean that, Harry."

"Sorry," said Harry. "It's over."

"You're just going to kick me out?"

"Why are you here anyway?" said Harry bitterly. "Using me to rebel against your father?"

"No. No, I wasn't using you," but her eyes did not meet his.

"Please leave," Harry said quietly, "and don't come back here again."

She stared at the floor as her mouth moved but no words came out.

"I'm sorry," Harry said softly. "I'm sorry to have to tell you about your father."

"That's all right," she answered. "I don't know why I'm surprised."

They both stood motionless for a few moments not sure what to do.

Suddenly her eyes widened and she turned to Harry, "Let's run away together!"

Harry laughed uncomfortably.

"I'm serious," she said. "Let's just run away. Far away. Just you and me. Let's just do it!"

Harry stared at her. "Run away with you? You're not serious?"

Her face fell. Harry could see she was she was stung by his rejection.

"Uh, Jade..." he said awkwardly, "...you're a really nice girl and all but um, I don't think..."

"Don't you ever want to just run away and be free?"

"Running away is not the answer," he said. "What are you afraid of?"

She didn't answer.

"Dumbledore can help you."

She frowned. "That old fool?"

"He's not an old fool. He's a great wizard! He could help you."

"What about you?"

"What about me? I can't help you."

"Sure you can. You're... You know, the Boy Who Lived."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Oh, right."

"You've survived battle with the Dark Lord like a million times over."

"Actually it was two million times."

"You could probably take on all the Death Eaters by yourself."

"Right!" Harry looked at her incredulously. "And all the Dementors with both hands tied behind my back."

"Yes, I bet you could," she said grinning. "There's obviously something about you. You're golden."

"Believe me, it's just dumb luck."

"Now who's lying to themselves?"

"Don't you get it?" he said angrily. "Yeah, I always survive but you can't say the same for the people around me."

She paused. "Ah," she said thoughtfully. "You know, what happened to Cedric wasn't your fault. He probably just wasn't as good a fighter as you are."

"Don't talk about Cedric," he snapped. "You didn't know him."

She seemed to realize she had gone too far. "Sorry," she said.

Harry stared at her. "Did you really not know about your father?"

She didn't look up. "I have to go," she said abruptly.

Without another word, she went over to the window, grabbed her broomstick and flew off into the night.

********


Days went by and Harry didn't hear from her.

He wrote a long letter to Ron giving him a full account of Jade with all the sordid details. He then wrote a similar but severely truncated version in a letter to Hermione. Believing that Sirius would be angry with him, he was hesitant to write to him. But he knew he had to. Nott was right inside Voldemort's inner circle of Death Eaters. It was a bit unnerving that his daughter could just come right up to Harry's window in the middle of the night. Harry knew he should be very concerned by this but for some reason, he wasn't.

Jade had left the special sleeping potion with Harry but he hadn't had the need to use it. Deprived of their nightly dose of sleeping potion, the Dursleys returned to their usual foul moods.

Sleep became more difficult as the nightmares returned. He knew severing his relationship with Jade was the right thing to do. He berated himself for getting involved with her in the first place.

One night, as he dozed fitfully, a knock at his window woke him up.

It was Jade. She was covered in blood.

"I did it, Harry. He can't ever hurt us again," she said with a crazed look in her eyes.

He opened up the window as she climbed into his bedroom and plopped down on the bed. It didn't occur to Harry to worry about what he was going to tell his Aunt Petunia when she asked where the bloodstains had come from. Instead, he asked a question, even though he was sure he didn't want to hear the answer. "What did you do?"

She looked at him through a dreamy and satisfied smile, as if she had just gotten away with stealing a pack of cigarettes from her mother's purse. "He can't touch us now, Harry. He can't invite his stupid, smelly friends over to drink their whiskey and smoke their pipes."

Harry forced his voice to remain calm. "Did you ... kill him?" The normal tone in which he asked the abnormal question seemed absurd.

Unadulterated joy washed over her as she told Harry how it happened. "He didn't even see it coming. Oh Harry -- you should have seen the look on his face! He couldn't believe it - his little angel standing over him...holding a long, shiny dagger." Her eyes were wide with delight. "I plunged it into his chest, where I thought his heart would be. I pushed it in as far as it would go. I think I must have hit a rib at first. But then I felt something solid. I think it was his heart," she pondered. "It seemed like forever till he stopped struggling. I wanted him to hurry up and die already!" She got a far away look on her face as she whispered, "It'll be one of our little secrets, Daddy."

She stared at Harry, as if suddenly becoming aware of his presence. "Don't worry, Harry. I made sure he was dead so he couldn't tell anyone." She looked at Harry and said matter-of-factly, "I slit his throat. I saw his air tube. There was no air going in or out. He was dead, I made sure of it."

Harry willed himself to keep calm. "What did you do with the knife?"

Harry hid his horror as she reached inside her cloak and pulled out a long carving knife, which was covered in blood.

"What do you think I should do with it?" she asked indifferently. When he didn't answer right away, she said, "Harry? Are you all right?"

Harry was sitting next to her on the bed, his head in his hands. He rubbed his eyes, as if trying to wake up from a very bad dream.