Author: Psykiapa (that's me, obviously)

Rating: Very meek PG-13

Genre(s): Romance, (is there romance yet? No, nothing major, just a warning) Fantasy, Harry Potter (duh)

Warning: This story does include slash (if you could call it that), but that is barely any part of it right now.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, never will, or anything incorporated with it. I am writing this purely out of the pleasure to be filling the time between when the books come out, and I do not disrespect the fact that J. K. Rowling owns this or that Warner Bros. owns the movie(s). Don't file a suit; I'm just a humble writer. Oh, and I may subconsciously quote TV shows or movies, or be inspired by them, sometimes it's indicated, sometimes its not, but you should know that I don't mean any harm.

Chapter 9: Correspondence

They gave Liamh a day to take off before he had to start his education of the sylph world. Which was good, on his part, because from there he could explore the palace more thoroughly. It also gave him time to think over what he had to do.

The palace wasn't any more confusing than Hogwarts was, but that was only because it was smaller by a great deal. There were countless secret doors, all of which Liamh was determined to discover when he came to them. Sometimes, because he was a sylph and his vision was now better than human vision, he could see them as plain as anything. Other times he just got a feeling of where they were. Which was strange, because somehow, he never got lost. Somehow, he knew where things were. After all, this was his world, and Hogwarts wasn't. He supposed he shouldn't feel at home here, but he did.

However, all good things must eventually come to an end, and the next day, Liamh was escorted to an empty room they could use for a classroom. He was not surprised to see that it was Caelum who would be his teacher.

"We meet again, Liamh."

"Yes, mem."

"I can see you've been praciticing your speech."

"It was necessary."

"Today, I figured, since it's winter and we won't be able to start your swordplay and swordless fighting techniques, that instead we'd work on a simple lesson on how the Order works, as you will have to start seeing them even though you're still learning." Liamh nodded his ascention. "From there, we'll work on literature, music, art, glamour, history, and sociology. You already know maths, Transfiguration, reading, writing, charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, we'll have to work on potions, we have much simpler potions created here, herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, Astronomy (you'll have to learn our form of Astrology), Divination (absolutely pointless), and am I missing anything?"

"Quidditch." Liamh quickly bit his tongue as Caelum gave him a quizzical look. "Nevermind."

"When the weather permits, we'll also have to work on your flying skills. I think Nikiatom will explain the basics to you. All you have to do is ask him."

They stood there awkwardly for a while, as Liamh tried to summon up the courage to ask Caelum about something.

"Um, er, Caelum?"

"Yes?"

Liamh hesitated. "What about . . . well, you know. What about that?"

"No, no I don't know."

"Er, well, in the Free World, we have a class that we call . . ." Liamh ran a hand through his long hair, got it tangled, pouted while he wrenched his fingers from the long raven strands, and looked at his bare feet. "Human Growth and Development." He blushed a pretty scarlet and continued to scrutinize his shoes.

"Oh," When he looked up, Caelum was blushing too. "Well, that is very . . . different from what you would know . . . and it . . . um . . . brings me to the next point." Liamh looked up at her. "I need to give you this." He handed Liamh a tattered leather book. It looked like it was patched together by a lot of stitches.

Liamh took it, thanked her, and opened it. There was nothing inside. He queried silently to Caelum.

"Well, we have limited resources here, so we make books that can be transfigured into any book, play, or anything else written by a sylph. All you have to do is ask someone who's already read the book to transfigure it for you. Our library has all the original copies in existance. Knowledge doesn't cost anything here; it's paid for by the Order. Now, if you'll let me see that book again, I'll make it into what I want you to read, cover to cover. There will be a section in there on . . . sylph maturity and . . . how to get there."

"Oh, okay."

By the end of this little session, Liamh knew exactly how the Order worked. The Order members were there to make sure that the Monarch was making the right decisions. A lot of them were also tutors to little sylphs, and acted as secretaries, making sure that everyone had enough money. They really didn't need to use money most of the time, because they were such a closely- knit community. The Order also were to send representatives with the Monarch when they had to go to meet other Immortals, or other things like that. Basically they were the people who kept the Monarch in check.

Crime was looked upon in a strange way here in the Underworld. Since it was more than likely that any sylph could foresee when a crime/murder was commited, they were careful to be good, because when one sylph figured it out, they could use a spell to have the Order see their vision. Most of the time, these offenders were locked away in a special kind of place. It was like the Underworld, only in a different location. There, they'd be separated along with the other criminals, while being watched by the member of the Order that was in charge of this, so that they were restricted from anything like a relationship, or, more acurately, love. They usually lived a life of comfortable, torturing solitude. That was enough to make sylphs only commit a crime in extremely special circumstances. Sylphs thrived off love.

* * *

Dear Ron/Hermione,

I know, it's been a long time since I wrote you a letter (after all, I got here all of three days ago), but until now, I just didn't know how.

You would never believe it here! The sylphs have this whole culture to themselves, an incorporated culture where being frugal is a good thing because they don't have enough room for extra and everything can neither be said to be feminine or masculine just simply because no one knows that men and women are so different.

You'd love it here, Herm, you'd find it absolutely amazing. They even have a different kind of money! You could spend an entire year here doing 'scientific research' for the Ministry and you still wouldn't understand anything unless you were actually a sylph. Or part of one anyway.

However, Ron, I don't know about you. There's no Quidditch. I don't think you'd like that.

Where should I start?

Well, once I got here (I can't give you directions because I'm a little shaky on it myself), I was escorted into this old sylph's office. Eldrid. Remember, my leige? From there I found out that I'm actually supposed to serve as Monarch here and be the ruler of these people. That was a shock, and they let me have a night to myself to let it sink in.

The next day, I was taken shopping! Apparently, Hogwarts robes are not accepted here. Anyway, after I got a completely new wardrobe (and jewelry to boot), I was whisked off to the hair stylist. There, they made my hair so long that now, I can tuck it into my belt (if I ever were to wear one).

When we got back from that, I had to have lessons in finetics, dining, dancing, posture, and basically everything that a matchmaker is supposed to do. All of this because the day before yesterday they had to give me a sort of coronation. At the coronation, they had a ball, and at the ball, I, of course, had to dance with EVERYONE.

I must say that I've met several cool sylphs. First, the one that brought me here and took me shopping, Danu. However, Danu sort of reminds me of Percy, in the fact that both of them take pride in their work and try to bustle through it. Nikiatom is really quiet, but a good person to know when it comes down to it. That's my maid/butler/servant that is really none of them. Rather, a strange sort of confidante. At the ball, I met all of the Order members, most of which were not pleased at my age, but generally polite. I also met a sylph named Kitri and the child, Lyra. Lyra's really sweet, and extremely smart, like everyone else here. Kitri will be a good friend of mine. Caelum was the sylph who taught me about posture, elecution, culture and stuff like that. Kinda stuffy, but all around nice.

Then there was something else. A sylph named Apaik, who was so forward in their attraction to me that she/he pulled up the front of my robes/gown. Right between what I think is the development of something like breasts. Later that night, I refused Apaik's attentions. I just know something will come of that, but I was never good at Divination. Was it a good move? Bad? I'm so confused. I can't wait for your replies.

Harry

PS-When you have a response written, just send it with Hedwig. She'll know what to do. Oh, and to whoever gets this first, send it through Hedwig to the other with your reply.

* * *

Liamh looked up at the sky. It was dark, as was usual. Caelum was teaching him something, and he looked back at his teacher. He mentally grumbled about the cold, rubbing his now adorably red nose and trying to remain warm. Why did they have to go outside for this lesson?

"Everything you see here does not exist," he stated suddenly, drawing his pupil's attention away from the cold.

"Excuse me for saying this, but that's impossible where I come from," Liamh said, turning to face the instructor.

"Our world is entirely made up of glamour. It is a very hard process, turning the air into objects (you'll learn how to do that soon enough.) The problem that we have is that while the plants here keep the air circulating, during the winter we have to do without a lot of the stuff we'd normally have during the other seasons. There is a scarcity of plants, there's a scarcity of necessity.

"And that's why the people are starving. That's why we don't have enough food. We've been saving food for years to make enough for the coronation feast. Of course, there are spells that keep it good, but it has a certain lackluster quality that you wouldn't find in the Upper world. Everything you see, we created. We made the sky here imitate the one outside so that sylphs would feel more at home. We create food out of air because we have limited space to grow things and still keep livestock. This area is simply too small for us, no matter what Amadeus says," Caelum finished bitterly.

"So nothing we have is real?" Liamh asked, the gravity of the situation closing in on him.

"Nothing."

* * *

Liamh soon finished the history lessons with Caelum (there really wasn't a lot of complicated history in a world where the people were forced to live in a child's game of make-believe), and was soon onto literature, which, in itself, was interesting. Because sylvan fiction was mainly set in the Free World, and they had no notion of what it was like to actually live there. This set for an extraodinarily amusing experience to Liamh. The viewpoint was so naiive, yet so completely adult that it made for an experience to keep him interested.

Whilst he spent most winter days reading, Caelum was introducing him slowly to all different sorts of instruments. The two that Liamh started on were in both worlds; the piano and the guitar. While he was doing a study one day, Caelum brought out a sitar, and Liamh took to that at an amazing pace. Bagpipes were studied next, then the violin, then they started in on instruments that were totally new to Liamh. Soon, Liamh could play instruments that he had never even heard of, the sylvan instruments. All sylphs loved all different kinds of music, and all played at least one instrument. They were, by nature, quick to learn, and Caelum was amazingly pleased with Liamh's progress.

Art was also highly appraised in the Sylvan world. All different kinds of styles that he had seen in the Free World paled into insignificance when put next to Sylvan art. The colors were so vibrant that they actually were somehow done so that whatever mood you were in, when you looked at the artwork, you'd like it because it changed shades. Things were not made to move, rather, a charming little spell was put on it so you felt that you were in the piece. Liamh had experienced this for the first time when he was going to Eldrid's office on the day of his coronation. But there was another reason that artwork was prized in the Sylph world. There was something in it a lot of times that often triggered a slight flash of something that was important. A glimpse of the future. It was deeply moving, and life changing, to go to a gallery.

This couldn't last forever, and Liamh was starting to dread the first meeting of the Order.

* * *

Harry,

Well, why the (scribble out) are you so worried about your first Order meeting? Were you completely oblivious to the Hall when you were explaining about the Death Eater? We were riveted! I was even riveted and I've heard that story countless times! You'll be just fine. I don't understand how you can be so unconscious to this fact.

By the way, I've been meaning to ask you something. What was the name of Sirius' love? Othello? I don't know. I think our cabin might have been where she lived before she moved in with Sirius. Remember the huge book collection? The hidden library? I don't know. It seems so eerie.

Speaking of which, do the sylphs use glamour? Because in the wizard world, it's been deemed impossible. It was in one of the books that I found here. Answer back. I really need to know. Perhaps I'm too curious.

Did you know that Millicent Bullstrode was murdered? I mean, I didn't like her, but it's strange, to have someone our age actually be a target. Of course, that really isn't helping the teachers get us to school any faster. Goll! I hope Ron's actually doing all the extra assigned homework that we were given. If he's not, I don't know what I'm going to do with him. I'm starting to wonder if he's a lost cause. Oh, well, I'm kind of bitter to write that it's really not my problem anymore.

Sincerely, Hermione.

PS-Don't tell Ron about the Sirius' love thing. I don't think he even remembers that. And could you explain that to me? We never got around to discussing it on our own.

* * *

"Visions are the sylph way of getting news. Then they spread it through a complicated system of rumors, however, to one who doesn't know how to take these images of the past, present, or future, they can be a stupefying or even terrifying experience." Caelum let these words sink in. "A lot of the time, sylphs will see something that doesn't need to be shown to anyone else. These visions are personal, and are often the most confusing."

"Is that so we don't know what will happen in our future?" Liamh asked.

"Well, yes and no. We aren't supposed to know our future, but we are often warned about the future of others in the very same dream. Sometimes it is best to keep quiet, sometimes you must tell the person something about your dream. It all depends on what you see."

Liamh pondered on this for a moment.

"That is the reason for which all sylphs must have a pensieve. We can take our last vision and put it in the bowl, and learn a part of what it means. They don't do all the work for you, however, but they do a lot of it."

"I've heard of a pensieve before! Professor Dumbledore has one in his office." Liamh exclaimed.

"Ah, yes, a gift from us to his family. Normally wizarding pensieves are a lot less perceptive than his is. They don't have the means by which to create something so firmly planted in the unreal.

"Anyway, a lot of visions can be painful. Particularly visions that have something to do with a person who knew something about a dead person who's very close to you. Hence, your visions of Voldemort are painful because he killed your parents. These visions are often of what is happening, not of what will. Rarely they are of what has already happened, but that has been a reality in the past. If you'll please, for this lesson today, read up on visions and how to handle them. I want your response in essay form. You're dissmissed until after lunch."

* * *

Liamh sat up in his bath, gasping for breath as he pushed the hair from his face. Hermione. Hermione might die soon. He calmed himself down, hurriedly remembering that it was a vision, and that he should check the Orb to see what he should do.

He got up out of the tub and wrapped a Free-world bathrobe around himself. He went out into the living room and over to the Orb. He pulled it up against him, looking down into the center of the large globe. There, he saw not Hermione, not Ron, but Draco Malfoy. And he knew. He wasn't supposed to tell Hermione, Draco was. He went back to the warm waters to do a mind- probing.

Draco's mind was very closed, there was a magical wall around it. He dug deeper, and found that it was put up by his father. He concentrated on Draco's thoughts, and his physical body slumped as his mental body left him. Slowly, the young ruler slipped into Draco Malfoy's mind as an object of some sort of comfort. He had a message to pass on, and he bloody well was going to do it. He firmly implanted it in Draco's head that he had to tell Hermione about this, and he knew, in a few days, it would be done.

* * *

Dear Harry,

That must suck! No Quidditch?! How can you live without Quidditch?! You're the youngest Seeker in a century! How is it possible?

Anyway, things are messed up in our household right now. Fred and George got in trouble with mom for getting a job at Dervish and Bangs. Percy has proposed to Penelope Clearwater and she said no, because she thought they were too young. Well, crikey, he's still living with us! What did he honestly think she was going to say? How does he possibly think he's stable enough to be married? Bill's eloped with some Egyptian chick because he thought mum wouldn't want him married to her, but she's just mad that we couldn't all be at the wedding. Dad's been promoted to Head of Department, which made mum VERY happy, if you get my drift. Charlie hasn't had work in ages, so he's decided to come visit. And, last but not least, Ginny's moping around because, apparently, she 'misses you.' Oh, wait, she wants to write a quick note. Hold on.

Hi Harry! Ron forgot to mention that he's actually STUDYING for once! I mean, if nothing else was weird, THAT in itself would probably make mum cry-

GINNY! Anyway, yes, I am studying, and without Hermione. That IS a scary thought.

Don't worry about your first meeting. I'm sure you'll knock their socks off. Erm, if you guys wear socks. Um . . . anyway, I've got to go, as I'm the only one who isn't helping clean for Charlie, the twins are giving me rather nasty looks, which is never a good thing.

Cheers! Ron.

* * *

Draco moaned as he tried to reach for parchment. His head was swimming and he couldn't think clearly. But he was doing the thinking. And therefore, he could do what he wanted. But oh, was his father putting up a fight. It was getting harder for him to see, he stumbled over his trunk, which he should have known was there. He forced himself to sit at his writing desk, and found his quill in his ink bottle. With a violent movement of his arms, he found the desk drenched in the blackness. He didn't care. The desk was already painted black anyway. Besides, he didn't have the strength to care.

Taking out his sheet of parchment, he didn't need a lot, he tried to put his pen down on it. His father was really fighting him; he could barely see straight to write. Finally, he wrote the first words.

To Hermione,

His father's resolve cracked, and he managed to write the rest in a terribly untidy and unreadable scroll. But he wrote it.

Someone going kill you. Knows your home cabin address. Coming soon. Get ready. Get out.

At the signature, his arm spun out of control and he couldn't write it. Names are imprisoning. She wouldn't believe him if he wrote in his signature. And she had to believe him. After all, it was Harry Potter who had told him to write this letter. He couldn't go against the boy's word.

* * *

Hermione ran up the stairs frantically. She had seen the owl before it had found a window, and she flung open the one in her bedroom. It dropped a letter disgruntedly in her lap, then flew back out the window. She quickly read through the messy scrawl, and it terrified her. There was a small pop in the distance but it was lost on her.

She moved around her room, immediately obeying the letter's instructions. Normally, had she gotten a letter like this, she would have just pushed it aside, not think about it again. But somehow, the untidy script scared her. It was written as if the person who wrote it had been defying some strange urge to not write it. The urge seemed to come from somewhere outside the author's body. The footsteps that Hermione didn't notice were drawing nearer.

After everything was packed, she realized that she should have had her wand with her all along. She mentally slapped herself for being so stupid. Soon, almost all the contents of her trunk were strewn across the floor of her room. She frantically pocketed it in her bathrobe, then threw everything back in. The unnoticed guest found an open window in the basement.

Suddenly, she remembered that this wasn't Hogwarts, and that Harry and Ron weren't here to save her. She bolted down the stairs to tell her parents about the unwanted visitor, but stopped dead in her tracks at the bottom of the stairs.

* * *

"Arhtur, someone has disturbed the Muggles again," Perkins shouted to Mr. Weasley.

"What did they do this time?" Mr. Weasley asked wearily.

"Apparated right into the middle of their yard and took off for their neighbors' house. You should handle this one, I'm too old," Perkins grumbled.

"You're always too old," Mr. Weasley grumbled after he had apparated. It was then that he saw the Dark Mark.

* * *

Hermione and the Death Eater bellowed "Expelliarmus!" at the same time, and both wands flew from their hands. The Death Eater summoned his (Hermione could tell it was a 'he' from his voice) and Hermione had nothing left to do.

* * *

Liamh ran down the halls, gathering the thighs of his long pants in his hands. He couldn't be late. He wasn't. Yet. The conference hall was at the end of the corridor, and he was almost there. His hair flew out behind him, he hadn't had any time to braid it this morning. He was in luck, there were only a few Order members there. He slowed to a walk and entered the hall.

In the center of it was a very large and very round table. He was reminded vaguely of the Arthurian legends in which Merlin told Arthur that he should use a round table, and not a square, because it showed that he thought of all of his knights and such as equals. He wondered if they had gotten the idea from the sylphs. He bowed his head in greeting to Eldrid and another Order member.

He sat and waited patiently for the others to get here so they could start. Soon, all of the chairs were filled. Eldrid had explained to him what he was supposed to do as Monarch, and how this particular meeting was supposed to go. There was someone who had important information. He stood, but at the same time as Eldrid did, and so he waited patiently for the older sylph to say something.

"Will the one of you that has information-"

Here, Liamh calmly cleared his throat politely. Eldrid seemed to remember that he was there. "Right. Continue Liamh."

"Anyway. Will the one of you that has the information and topic for this meeting please step forth and bring it out." Liamh sat back down, and let Amadeus take the stand.

"A sylph has somehow managed to go missing. I do not know what for, but with my orb I checked all lands, and there was nothing that would remotely suggest that they are still within the boundaries of our world."

"So you mean to say that we have to locate the sylph?" Eldrid said, cutting Liamh off as he was about to say something.

"Exactly."

"Who is it?" Lemagne asked.

"Apaik."

Liamh tried to say something, but was interrupted by another Order member.

"Well, you said yourself that going into the Free World would be suicide, we can only assume that she will eventually die."

"Can we?" Amadeus asked, raising an eyebrow delicately. "We have no reason to believe that Apaik would be suicidal. We have no reason to find anything that would remotely connect Apaik to the Free World and-"

"I think our next form of business should be to figure out what to do," Eldrid said the words that Liamh had been trying to say all through this conversation.

"Do? I don't think we really have to do anything. He'll die, that's all that we know. The Free World is too rich . . . it would unstabelize her balance all together. We do nothing," Amadeus whisked away the idea.

"But he had to have gone up there for a reason," another Order member complied.

"I agree with Tyrist, there's a reason for everything," Kiara Nikomic Shane the Third complied.

"Oh, shut up, you pompous cow! You know nothing of these matters!" an especially blunt sylph lashed out viciously.

And from there, things got steadily worse. The argument got more and more heated, and soon, the only ones who hadn't been insulted were Liamh and Eldrid. Eldrid made to open her mouth to say something to calm them, but, for the first time in the whole meeting, Liamh beat him to it.

"Will you all not stop bickering like little children and listen to me?" He managed to get out above the yelling. Everyone immediately took their seats. "Honestly! You all were worried about me being too young to rule, when I'm the only one, along with Eldrid, who hasn't completely blown up into squabbles! I have some information that might help us along the way to making a decision."

Everyone stared at him with emotions ranging from silent rage to wonder on their faces.

"The night of the coronation, Apaik made a very forward pass at me. I refused. As I walked away, she just stood there fuming. I did not know him very well, but I am thinking that when angered, Apaik was not a rational sylph. Am I correct in my assumption?" There were nods from everyone. "Now, if we can all stop arguing for one second we can figure this situation out." And he fell silent again.

"Well, from what I knew of Apaik, she was quick to anger, and not always all the way there and gathered, like most sylphs. He also wasn't stupid, you must remember. She would plan a rather personal attack on Liamh if what he says is true," Tyrist explained.

"Then he would have tried to get to the root of the problem. She would hit a nerve, deeply," Kiara Nikomic Shane the Third thought out loud. "So how would he get to you?"

A sudden realization dawned on Liamh. "Lord Voldemort, that's how."

* * *

"Here you are, you should be quite comfortable here," Mr. Weasley said, showing Mr. and Mrs. Granger into a bedroom. The Ministry had provided the extra bed, seeing as how Charlie was also staying with the Weasleys and they didn't have enough beds.

"Thank you for everything, Mr. Weasley," Mrs. Granger said with a grateful smile.

* * *

"I can't believe what happened to you, Hermione! Do you know who sent the letter?" Ron asked, as he sat down on his bed. Hermione followed.

"No, but it was just so strange, I mean, it was written as though something was holding them back from writing it. Something not entirely outside their body," Hermione whispered. They had somehow managed to ditch Ginny because Ron wanted to talk to her alone.

"I still just can't believe that a Death Eater attacked you! You're-"

"A Muggle-born and a friend of Harry's. It makes perfect sense," Only Hermione could be this gathered after what had happened to her. But her composure wouldn't last for long, and she burst into tears.

"Oh, come here," Ron started. "You need a hug." He brought her into his arms, and rocked her back and forth, like you would do with a little child. "It'll be okay."

* * *

Dear Harry,

Hermione's staying at my place now. A Death Eater attacked her family.

Here's what happened. Someone wrote Hermione a letter to warn her, but didn't sign it. That same night, someone went to kill her family. Hermione had had her wand ready, and cast a disarming charm at the same time the Death Eater did. Somehow, he summoned his wand and bound her and her family to chairs with ropes. Then, he took Hermione into questioning, and when she wouldn't tell anything, he put her under the Cruciatus curse. My dad was on call that night because the Death Eater had apparated right into her neighbors' backyard, and he found her. The Death Eater apparated, but dad brought them all back here until school starts so we could protect them.

Do you have any idea who wrote the letter? Hermione doesn't have a clue, the writing was so hard to read, but I thought that you might know . . .

Ron

* * *

"Thanks, Ron, for everything," Hermione gratefully smiled at him. "I promise next time not to have a nervous breakdown."

"It's okay, you've been through a lot. Come here," He smiled as they hugged goodnight, and he kissed her hair.

* * *

"Minerva, we have done everything we can conceive as possible for the school. There have been new nasty little spells put up as barriers, and all the old ones have been redone," Professor Snape said reassuringly to Professor McGonagall. "If Dumbledore thinks we are ready for new students, then I think we are."

"I have a bad feeling about this. There are all those murders that have been going on lately. And you, Professor Snape, should have more drawbacks than me," Professor McGonagall looked down her nose at him. "They are always your Slytherin girls."

"I have full confidence in Dumbledore. I have to. He's the only one that trusts me."

* * *

Dear Albus Dumbledore,

This is Harry. I feel strange, writing you this letter, I've never written to you before. But I must get to the point.

A sylph has gone missing. Their name is Apaik, and, from what I know, Apaik has a grudge against me because I refused something . . . I don't think I need to go into the personal details. I am going to need some information from your spy about new recruits in Voldemort's inner circle. At the moment, I'm waiting to introduce the idea of coming to assist you and the rest of the wizards against the Dark Lord Voldemort. I need to keep in correspondence with you on these points. I need to know everything if the sylphs are ever to come up with an alliance with the Free World.

There are bits of this mystery that you may not know yet, and there's a lot that has been kept from me because of my age. I know this, and I must beg you, as a Monarch of the Underworld, to assist me and think of me as your equal. As you would a foreign Minister, or something like that.

Keep in contact with me,

Harry Potter

* * *

Dear Harry,

Something odd has come up. Pansy Parkinson was killed.

It was strange when Millicent Bullstrode was murdered, but Pansy just makes it too weird. I can't write a very long letter this time, mum's yelling at me to go clean my room.

Sorry about the length of this letter,

Ron

* * *

Soon, the weather let up enough so the snow could take a chance to melt, and Liamh was starting to get excited.

Rearing its not-so-ugly head was the prospect of his first fighting lesson. He sat, cross-legged, on the floor of the living room of his suite, running his fingers along the blade of the sword Albus Dumbledore had passed on to him. He wondered about the cryptic inscription it had emblazoned on the hilt.

This sword is the sword that the greatest ruler of sylphs will use. Guard it well, all who come by it, you hold a race's future in your hands.

He was starting to wonder if it wasn't just some trick to make people think they were great when they wielded the sword, that they were the priviledged ones to use it, or if it really was a prophecy. If this sword was truly waiting for the greatest sylvan Monarch to heft it and use it in battle, he had better keep it safe. There was no telling what the consequences would be if he lost it, or broke it, or any other such foolish thing. A shudder went over him. Suddenly, he had the strangest urge to shove it down his throat. The thought was chilling, but also strangely appealing.

He put it back in his trunk, not wanting to do anything foolish.

* * *

Dear Hermione,

Her name was Ophelia. Ophelia. From Hamlet, she went crazy and drowned in a pond. Why do you ask?

I have some of my own questions. Are you okay? Is everyone okay? Ron made it sound as if it were, but you'd know better than he would. And, do you have any idea who sent the letter? I think I know who did, but don't try to get it out of me. You aren't supposed to know yet.

I know you and Ron are trying to figure something out. I just know it. But I have another thing to ask you about.

A sylph went missing from our world. Their name is Apaik. If you see another sylph walking around, I need you to write me, and tell me where and when they were seen. Can you do that? Perhaps not. Well, Apaik had brown hair, purple eyes, was pretty tall, and a thin face.

Getting to your other question, yes, we do use glamour here. Were you just curious, or was there another reason? If there was, figure out when the right time to tell me would be. I want to know.

Your friend,

Harry

* * *

Liamh carefully put the warrior suit on and hefted the sword out from where he had buried it in his trunk. He decided that he'd carry it, not knowing the right way to tie it onto his waist. With that, he rushed to the empty room they'd be meeting in, in hopes of a good first lesson.

When he got there, he was rather surprised to see Nikiatom's grandsylph patiently waiting for him. He bowed to the other, and walked into the room.

"Hello, Liamh," the much older sylph smiled, showing no signs of age whatsoever.

"Hello, Kirkaria," Liamh said.

"You won't be needing your sword today; we're going to be working on conditioning your body to take a blow and to strike one. First, we must stretch out,"

And so the stretching commensed. It took them about fifteen minutes to go through the first set of stretches, and they were nothing but leg warm-ups. Next came the torso, mostly stretching of the hips and abdomin. Then they stretched the neck and back, and finally everything, including their fingers, had been pushed to its limits. Liamh was panting heavily as he desperately tried to slow his breathing. Kirkaria held out a small glass bottle of water, and Liamh drank gratefully.

"In order to do the kind of fighting that the sylphs created, you have to be in the top of your possible condition. You have to be flexible and have enough endurance to fight almost non-stop for days on end. Soon, all of these things will come in handy for our people," Kirkaria explained.

"So that means that we may be going off to war?" Liamh asked through his heavy breathing.

"It is as of yet indefinite."

"Oh."

"Break is over; get on your feet," Kirkaria suddenly barked.

Liamh rushed to his feet and finally started his training, but it was odd. Most of the stuff she made him do was very strange. Some of the exercises he recognized, some he didn't. But, soon, the day was over, and the training left Liamh to collapse onto his bed and fall into a deep sleep until noon the next day.

* * *

The letter came just as the Weasleys and Grangers were sitting down to eat. Mr. Weasley grabbed at it, but Mrs. Weasley was faster. With an excited smile, she looked up at her family.

"The school is reopening! You have a ticket for Platform Nine and Three Quarters on January 22nd! Isn't that lovely?"

Soon dinner was forgotten as they all went into their mode of celebration. The twins set off several of Fillibuster's fireworks and jumped into the air in a mad adrenaline rush. Ginny went to go turn on the radio, and soon a small party was going on at the Weasley residence. Ron whooped with joy and looked over at Hermione, who was quietly smiling to herself in the corner. Immediately a look of concern crossed his features, and he went over to her.

"What is it, Hermione?" he inquired as he sat down next to her, sliding an arm tentatively around her shoulders.

"The Death Eater attacked Hogwarts. He could get in," she stared off into space, still smiling lightly to herself.

"Hermione, Peter was an animagus, of course he could get in. But they've probably put up some ward against that now. They're more careful," Ron said, and Hermione widened her smile.

"So we're really going back?"

"Yes. We're really going back."

Had the Weasley twins not noticed them at this point, this mushy little scene would have probably progressed into them going off their break, but both ended up red-faced and harrassed.

Within less than a month, all of their stuff was packed, the extra homework done, and they were off on their way to King's Cross. Hermione looked back at the Burrow, wondering how her parents would fare, but drove the thought away from her mind at once. She was going back to Hogwarts, everything was all right again. Hopefully.

A/N- I got this out sooner than I thought I would. I'm on a roll! Yes, I know, it's another filler, there won't be many of those left. I think this fic is actually almost halfway through, so I'm doing really good on it. For the next chapter; should I skip forward in time, or should I keep going with it the way it is? Because either way I could write it, but it would be easier to skip forward in time, I can tell you that much. But if I don't, I can guarantee that it will start getting eerie, and we all like that! ; ) Thank you so much to my wonderful reviewers, I'll get back to you here:

Ashurahime: I loved reading your review! I feel so honored that you love this fic so much. Your review was one of the best written reviews that I've ever had. I look forward to seeing your response for this chapter.

Usa Yui and Usa Kou: I thought kawaii meant cute, but I'll take your word on that, I wasn't very good at Japanese! (

ast-lumos-draco: Thank you.

Gilaine: I don't know if you'll like me in the near future, I have certain plans for Lyra that may not be to your liking. Sorry! (

Phoenix: I always look forward to seeing your now familiar review! You certainly are a wonderful person.

Silver Lightning: Thank you so much for your review! I thought that the Sylvan Underworld should be beautiful, but creepy at the same time, did I accomplish that?

Clepsydra-Delphinus: Well, what can I say? You are such a wonderful reviewer (I look forward to your review every time I post now), and it always brightens my day. I thought that the sylphs finding Harry attractive would be interesting. You will find out more about that later. ( No, there isn't some special kind of sylvan beauty. Harry (or should I say Liamh?) will get some very . . . interesting reactions when he sees his old friends again. (I actually like your idea of Ron . . . I will say no more, but you've inspired me to be veeeeeeeery evil indeed.)

Gia: Apaik is NOT a nice character, and yes, VERY forward. You'll hear more about her in later chapters. I have some definite plans for him . . .