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Disclaimer: As already mentioned, I (unfortunately) do not own Harry Potter. They are the property of J.K.Rowling.

The moonlight was drawing little circles of luminosity on the white wallpaper in Harry's bedroom.  In the silence of night time there was nothing to be heard in Privet Drive, Surrey, southern England. The neighbours were fast asleep, proud to be so entirely normal: asleep at night, awake in the brightest, earliest hours of morning; the way it was supposed to be, anyway. The soft sounds of owls and other birds active at night penetrated the peaceful atmosphere only marginally in the course of the night.

As widely known Harry can not be considered as normal as his neighbours. Therefore it wasn't surprising that his bedroom window was illuminated with a little light, coming from the lamp on his bedside table.

Harry wasn't able to find any sleep this night. Too much was on his mind, occupying his thoughts.

For one he merely had to close his eyes to see a beautiful face with big blue eyes and a bright smile in his mind, as if it was carved into the back of his eyes; an everlasting picture.

Unconsciously he reached up his hand to touch his cheek on the spot where Grace lips had brushed them ever so slightly. It felt as if they had left a fiery mark on his skin, still faintly burning.

Secondly he couldn't help but be concerned about the way Grace behaved on their way back to Surrey. 

He sighed heavily. Just subsequent to this little innocent kiss, she had left him standing there, went of to the boat and hardly spoke a word to him. Harry found it impossible to get her to explain herself for she stubbornly decided not to talk to him. All she would do was sit there, eyes unfocused, teeth clenched.

Besides being sad about the way she acted, Harry felt his temper rise all the same. He didn't kiss her; it was all out of her initiative. He didn't have to feel bad, he didn't do anything! The injustice of this made him so angry; he had to get his mind off her.

Nevertheless Grace told him she would call him the next day, so they could make plans to spend the afternoon together.

In addition to him being quite angry, he couldn't help but wonder how Grace was able to apparently read his mind yesterday. He knew perfectly well that it might have just been a very good guess, but he still felt rather uneasy, pondering on it.

Naturally there were certain muggles that were receptive enough to pick up the mind's vibrations just about as well as a wizard or witch trained in Legilimency. But still, only "just about as well"…

He tried to lock away his thought for it wasn't of much use to worry about this in the middle of the night. 

As if this wasn't enough to dwell on for tonight, he found himself thinking of the strange dream he had about Professor Trelawney right before Grace woke him up.

"The Dark Lord prepares himself for the last and final battle. He has been brought back to life to be tremendously powerful. His desire for supremacy has been increased. He thirsts after the weapon that can, in due course, defeat his Nemesis. Beware, Harry Potter!"

Now what was that supposed to mean? Harry was far too experienced in these kinds of dreams and prophecies by now to simply overlook it and think of it as a regular nightmare. He decided that the only thing he could possibly do was to owl Professor Dumbledore about this. He would certainly know what to make of this. And …

since he didn't have a godfather to confide in things like that anymore…

Quickly abandoning this dreadful thought, for he felt his eyes sting with tears and a lump forming in his throat again, he decided that he had to occupy himself quickly.

Looking around he picked up a book he just previously bought on his shopping trip to Diagon Alley.

Magical Literature, a beginner's guide by Melissa van Quillstenberg, first published in 1864.

For Harry hadn't as much as read the title, he decided he might as well take a look at it. Magical Literature was an elective class he decided to take along with Ron and Hermione, for the other choices (History of Functional household-spells or How to properly get your mandrake through puberty) were not as appealing to either of them.

Their first assignment in this class had already been sent to them via owl by Professor Huberta Conscripto on the first day of their holidays.

"Magical Literature in the course of its existence has developed great dissimilarities compared to Muggle Literature.

Read the first chapter of "Magical Literature, a beginner's guide by Melissa van Quillstenberg" and point out the utmost differences.

(Note: Appearance as invisible ink, soaring pages or shrieking covers shall not be taken into consideration.)"

Harry opened his textbook and started to read the introduction, the author's note and the first chapter of the book. Unexpectedly he found it somewhat interesting to learn about the way the first druids, the wizards of the Middle Ages and the magical people in modern times developed their creative writing and was astound to find out about the extensive range of prose developed by wizards and witches till this day. 

The muggle poem which was supposed to be compared to a magical one was "A dream within a dream" by a writer called Edgar Allen Poe. Harry read through it and liked it tremendously. Trying to find an interpretation for this nice poem and whether or not the mentioned grains of sand might represent the protagonist's loved ones, falling from his grasp, he suddenly felt tiredness overcome him with such a force that he could merely pull his strength together to put his glasses down and sank onto his pillow, sleep overwhelming him immediately.

***

The next morning Harry was awoken by the soft swoosh of wings, soaring through his window.

He sleepily opened his eyes, put on his glasses to make out the blurred picture in front of him.

Hedwig was sitting on his bed, clumsily making her way over his blanket, coming closer to his face. She hooted softly and started nibbling on his ear in a way she probably thought to be affectionate.

"Ouch, Hedwig! Stop this!"  Harry yelled for it hurt quite drastically to have Hedwig's sharp beak on the soft skin of his ear lobe.

She looked at him in rather hurt way with her great amber eyes and then held out her leg in a dignified way as if to say that he just didn't understand her.

"Girls," Harry muttered, untying the two rolls of parchment attached to his snowy white owl's leg.

One of them was clearly written in Ron's messy handwriting and he recognized the other one to undoubtedly be Hermione's self-confident script, her letters sharply and clearly scratched onto the paper.

He took a closer look at the first paper for it looked as if Hermione had hastily written something on it. The ink was slightly blurred as if she had touched it by accident when it was still wet.

He frowned. That was so much un-Hermione-ish…

Read this letter first!!

Now he was positively confused. Read this letter first? Well, maybe it'll be explained later, he thought…

He unfolded the first roll of parchment, written by Ron.

Hi Harry!

What are you up to? Hope things are going well over there in your muggle house, hope the vellytision hasn't eaten you up or something, haha.

And I hope you're feeling a little better, you know what I mean.

I was really sorry to hear that you wouldn't come over to spend the summer with us yet. Naturally Mom has started to worry about you even more than usual. And between you and me: That is saying something! So if you want to do her a favour, you should at least spend the last week of your holidays with us. What fun is it there at your house anyways? 

Fred and George have moved out. It's become rather dull in the Burrow now as well. Although they still come by a lot to test their new inventions on… me, of course! I can consider myself lucky that I can even write this letter to you for I just regained full use of my hands… Don't laugh when I tell you that I had claws that would make Buckbeak really jealous! Just a hint: Never try something that looks like a purple lollypop and lets out green smoke!

Percy still doesn't talk to any of us. I think he's probably really embarrassed that he didn't trust us and stuck with the bloody ministry the whole time. He's just the world's biggest prat!

Hermione came to stay with us four days ago. She's been asking about you a lot. I don't know mate, I think she really misses you a lot. So do I, but she has been a mess as soon as she found out you wouldn't come. She said she's going to owl you herself later today. Don't know what she's up to right now, I think she's outside with Ginny, hunting some gnomes or something.

Well this could easily be the longest letter I've ever written so I'll just close right here.
Hopefully you'll change your mind and come over quite soon, that would be cool! Surely the muggles will be back from Lamorca or whatever soon, right?

In a short time we'll all be moving to the new Headquarters (Dad said I can write that in a letter, now that the truth was generally accepted). I can't tell you where though, obviously.

And I don't know myself, for that matter… They don't tell us anything. But thank Merlin we've got the extendable ears!!!

But we'll get you there if you decide to spend the rest of the time before school with us!

See you soon,

Ron Weasley

Harry smiled. Ron was easily his best friend ever. Reading his letter it was just as if being in his company again, arguing about their favourite Quidditch teams in front of the big fire in the Gryffindor common room. He was really grateful that Ron didn't mention Sirius in his letter. Hermione would probably once more say that Ron had the "emotional range of a teaspoon", but Harry was so overfilled with emotions himself that the simplest drop of sympathy might cause his heart to overflow again and he just didn't want that.

Curiously he opened Hermione's letter and started to read it. The words were scribbled hastily on the parchment with green ink, similar to the one Professor McGonagall used for her official Hogwarts letters.

Dear Harry,

Ron doesn't know I'm writing this. I didn't want him to enquire all about my letter. He can be so annoying sometimes!!

I wanted to apologize for being such a mess when we talked on the phone. I'm sure that doesn't make it easier for you and I can't believe I didn't control myself better than that.

Have you thought about coming over to the Burrow again? I'm sure you must be terribly lonely there. I know that you said that this is what you need right now, but you can be by yourself here as well! We wouldn't be around you the whole time if you don't want us to, I promise!

Anyway, the most important reason I'm writing to you is that Professor Dumbledore has been visiting with us a lot lately. And you wouldn't believe who accompanied him last time: Professor Trelawney! I thought my eyes deceived me, but it was true!!  

Naturally we were not allowed to be present while the "adults had their talk", but I managed to slip into the kitchen next to the living room once and while I didn't catch the contents of their conversation, I noticed that they had adopted a really grave tone. Do you have any idea of what is going on??? Logically I've been reading the Daily Prophet regularly, but I didn't notice anything unusual.

Has your scar hurt lately? I don't know, I'm just worried. Please write back as soon as possible if you have any idea of what is going on. No, write back anyhow!

I really miss you a lot. I know that Ron does too, but he has so much on his mind since he joined the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He practises nearly 24/7. And I spent most of my time with Ginny. She's still with Dean Thomas, you know?

Please let us pick you up soon, I can't wait to see you again!

I miss you!!!!!!!!

Love always,

Hermione

Harry frowned and looked at Hermione's letter disbelievingly. It worried him that Professor Dumbledore and Professor Trelawney have been visitors at the Burrow. He couldn't help but think of his dream again. He had to tell Professor Dumbledore and he had to tell him pronto!

But even more than that he was concerned about the tone of Hermione's letter. He hardly recognized his self-confident, smart, proud-to-be-a-prefect-and-a-role-model friend from school. She sounded so sad, so concerned and so emotional. He stared at the eight exclamation marks behind the "I miss you" she had written at the end of her letter. He couldn't imagine her writing that ever before…

***

After sending Hedwig of with three letters, - one to Professor Dumbledore, and two to the Burrow, addressed to Ron and Hermione - , Harry tried to spend the day in a useful fashion. 

Meaning the only thing that could ever be considered really useful was reading in his most favourite, most-read book, "Quidditch through the Ages".

At about 3 pm that afternoon Grace called and asked if he wanted her to come over in the evening and watch a movie. She told him, still in an unusual cold voice, that she would bring along the movie and some pizza if he could just provide the TV, the DVD player and something to drink. Harry appreciatively agreed for he hadn't thought Grace would call again at all after they separated the previous day in this more than frosty silence…

The day was drawing to a close, it was close to 8 pm and the sky began to cloud over, the first stars were already visible on the firmament.

Harry ran his hands through his hair, being as drowsily exhausted as one can only be after a day of doing… nothing.

***

Harry sat in the living room, staring at the huge entertainment system Dudley just got for the special occasion of being… back from school. The Dursleys made their Ickle-Diddykins enormous presents for the most ridiculous reasons. As if he was able to hypnotize this black stereo-HiVi-system, Harry was just wondering about how he would be able to explain to Grace that he wasn't able to even turn this monstrous machine on, when he heard the door bell ring and jumped up to get the door.

The girl he thought about every other minute of this past day was standing in front of him, holding what seemed to be a DVD in the one and a box of pizza in the other hand, smiling shyly.

"Hi," Harry said hoarsely, for his voice was failing him at the sight of her.


Grace was wearing a tank top again, this time in the exact stunning blue as her big sparkling eyes. Together with her tight blue jeans it was accentuating her shape, making Harry blush slightly as soon as he noticed.

Her skin looked so luminescent and silky that he recalled the feeling of his hands running over it immediately, making him blush even more.

"Um, why don't you come in?" he said sheepishly, suddenly anxiously aware that she surely must have noticed his glance.

He led the way to the living room where they sat down and tried to make themselves comfortable.

Harry poured her some pumpkin juice, remembering the way she liked it when they first met…

It sure is hard to engage her into small talk today, Harry thought, frantically searching his brain for something to say. Grace spared him of this difficult task though:

"I'm so sorry about yesterday," she whispered, not looking at him. She took the glass of juice he offered her, brushing his hand with her small fingers, making him shudder.

"What do you mean?" Harry croaked, having a faint idea of what she was playing at.


"I cant believe I acted the way I did… I mean I practically threw myself at you and then… I acted like I… I mean,… " she fell silent once more, directing her glance at Harry's face with what seemed to be an immense difficulty.

"It would be too much to explain right now, but just be assured that I'm really sorry and I hope you are not mad at me or something. I might tell you some time, … . I has something to do with my past… You wouldn't believe me if I told you and I cant blame you… . It happened before… In fact it occurs every time I start to like a boy…"

Harry's emerald green eyes searched into her blue ones for answers to this confusing statement. He didn't have a clue of what she was talking about and he didn't care so much for he felt as if a giant hand was squashing his heart as he saw tears rising into her beautiful eyes.

"Don't cry, I'm sure it will be alright," he said soothingly, placing his glass onto the coffee table without taking his eyes off her face.

She lowered her head, staring at her hands grasping the glass with her pumpkin juice ever so tightly. "You have no idea," she whispered, hardly audible.

"Come on, nothing bad happened, you know," he tried hard to comfort her for he felt as if her pain was his as well. It penetrated his heart into his very soul, leaving a fiery ache along its trace.

He placed his right hand under her chin, lifting her face up so she had to look at him.

"It will be ok," he said reassuringly, not knowing of the exact meaning of his words, just trying to make her understand and to make her feel better.

He put his hand on the side of her face, wiping away the tracks left by the tears on her cheek. The softness of her skin completely cleared his mind of thoughts; he didn't know what he was doing any longer.

As he drew closer their faces were mere inches apart from each other and as soon as he inhaled he took in her scent, a mixture of the smell of spring rain and pumpkin juice. He felt completely dizzy now, unable to control his actions.

Following a sheer impulse he kissed her softly on the cheek, then trailing her jawbone to her lips. The moment he felt her soft lips on his, his mind went blank. A sensation was flooding through him as if nothing in the world mattered anymore besides this feeling of perfection:

He felt as if he just caught the snitch at the Quidditch Worldcup, as if just fought a Norwegian Horntail single-handed, as if he was drowning in the most delicious pool of butterbeer…

They didn't break the kiss in what seemed an eternity. It was as if neither one of them could get enough of the other's taste, feeling as if they just found the most beautiful oasis in the middle of a barren desert.

After what seemed like forever, Harry broke the kiss to take in a deep breath.

"How come this feels so right," he gasped, frantically searching the face of his source of delight.

Grace smiled at him, her eyes still red and watery, her lips a little swollen and puffy due to the intense kissing.

"I don't know, but I think we should try and find out," she suggested, pulling him into a close hug. Harry buried his face into her shoulders, taking in her scent as if to ever store it into his memory for he never sensed anything coming close to this wile he let his hands run up and down her back.

Grace tightened her hold on him while he started to trail kisses down her neck, tasting her skin.

Soon this wasn't enough anymore and he turned her head to face him again, crushing his lips on hers.

She made him feel so complete.

***

Not paying much attention to the movie, Grace was snuggled tightly in Harry's arm, both sitting on the couch. If somebody was to ask Harry afterwards, he couldn't have told what movie it was they were watching anyways.

Their concentration was occasionally interrupted by extensive kissing sessions while they were clinging to each other as if they were about to drown if they ever let go.

Harry was just caressing her soft cheeks, telling her for the repeated time how lovely she looked this night, as…

"CRACK!"

A sound as loud as a gunshot penetrated the soft silence, making them jump apart. In the middle of the room, blocking the television from view, stood, as displaced in this neat muggle living room as a pink monkey in the Buckingham palace…

Grace screamed at the top of her voice, Harry struggled for breath, his pulse hurting in his throat.

"Snape!" he finally yelled, desperately hoping he didn't lose his mind and went completely nutters in the course of the night. He stared at the tall skinny man with the malicious black eyes and the greasy black hair, dressed in an old cloak hanging down to his ankles, pointing a black wand at his heart.

"Potter," Snape sneered, staring down at him… "Who in Merlin's name is that?" he then shouted.

Harry span around, looking at Grace. If Snape's sudden appearance had caused him to be on the verge of a heart attack, he realized it was nothing compared to the state this girl was in.

Hidden in the corner of the couch she was shivering madly, a wild look in her eyes, feverishly staring from Snape to Harry and back again, whimpering now and then, hardly perceptible.

It just occurred to him what sight this must be for somebody else: Snape, resembling the incarnation of evil, suddenly appearing out of thin air in the middle of a living room, madly pointing at Harry with a wooden stick. He looked similar to the angel of wrath, malevolence in persona or just like everything everybody has ever been afraid of.

And that wouldn't be too far from the truth, Harry thought dully, not able to grasp a regular thought while feeling completely overwhelmed by the situation.

"I have an urgent message from Professor Dumbledore, concerning the Order! I thought it would be certainly safe to apperate into your house, knowing that you don't have any friends besides those annoying brats form school," he hissed. Then he raised his voice, causing Grace to tremble and to whimper as if she was scared that Snape might produce a single lighting bolt, exterminating them in a heartbeat.

"Who could have supposed that you would risk the exposure of the magical world for the sake of some snogging session with a muggle gal???" he practically yelled, causing Harry to shake, but not out of fear but out of anger and fury, due to the injustice of this.

"You could have very well checked if the coast was clear, Professor!" Harry yelled back at him, fighting hard to control his temper but losing miserably.

"Wh, what are you talking about, Harry," Grace said, her voice shaking madly.

"Explain later," Harry muttered under his breath, turning to her but continued to stare at Snape.

"Oh no, you won't," Snape said in a mocking tone. "You practically well know what needs to be done, you know what this situation calls for! Even an under-average intelligence as yours should be able to figure this out!"


"What do you mean," Harry gasped, hoping for the best and expecting the worst.


"An obliviator will arrive at this place shortly, performing a nice little memory charm on your pretty friend here," Snape grinned as if he had just been presented with the most beautiful striking Christmas present ever.

"And not just some little one, oh no… I mean, look at her and see for yourself! She needs to get the real thing. I dare say she won't remember much of this Sparkling Night of Romance. I'd be highly surprised if she remembered you at all" he added, grinning his most mischievous grin ever, the one he usually adapted when Neville melted his cauldron and he was planning on trying exactly this potion on his toad, Trevor.

Harry turned towards Grace promptly, staring at her, not believing his ears. This couldn't possibly be true. Why was his everyday life always turning into the merest nightmare?  

Grace stared at him fearfully. "Are you going, going to brainwash me or something," she managed to pant after what seemed an eternity of staring into each other's eyes.

"Oh no," Snape grinned, answering at Harry's place. "It's much more eloquent than any un-magic, stupid method you might think of, girl! You can be sure of that! Come to think of it, I think I could perform the spell myself. Why waste time?" He raised his wand and pointed it in Grace's face, taking in a sharp breath.


"No, please Sir, don't!" Grace pleaded with him, tears running down her cheek. She moved towards Harry, eyes fixed on Snape's wand, blindly reaching for his hand. Harry took it and squeezed it tightly.

"You cant do that, Snape! You wouldn't dare to!" he roared at him. "First of all, you caused this situation! I didn't do anything inappropriate! And you can't just act on behalf of the ministry! This is business of the state; you are misinterpreting your competences!"

"First of all, it's Professor Snape, Potter! And I don't think you have exactly the knowledge of my competences, do you?" he snarled. Although Harry must have struck the nerve for Snape lowered his wand. 

"Alright, we'll wait for the Ministry's representative. It won't take them very long.

Now what are you doing, girl?!" Snape suddenly yelled, turning to Grace again.

Harry followed his eyes, full of panic. 

Grace had reached for her mobile phone, dialing furiously. 

"I'm calling the police! You're a mad man! You're dangerous! I won't sit around waiting for the next of you nutters come up here and…"

"STUPEFY!" Snape screamed at the top of his voice. A bright red light came from the tip of his wand, hitting Grace across the chest. Her phone fell out of her hand, shattering on the floor. Her eyes opened widely, a look of uttermost terror on her beautiful face, she fell down to the couch laying there, motionless.

"I cant believe you just, you just…" Harry yelled, not being able to find a word for what he just witnessed. He fell to his knees next to the couch, grasping one of Grace's hands which was dangling limply beside her.

"Tell me you just didn't…! You just stunned an innocent muggle girl!"

"She was a threat! She was trying to phone these muggle law-keeper, no less!" Snape hissed, but not without a trace of panic in his own voice.

"We could have taken that phone away from her without the use of this stunning spell!!!" Harry's voice cracked. He observed Grace's face intensely for she didn't carry the look that was usually noticeable on the face of the victim of the stunning spell.

She looked absolutely miserable, pale as death, slightly covered in sweat. Her eyes were clouded over, staring glassy and lifeless. And…

there was a trail of blood trickling down out of the corner of her mouth, making its way down her chin. Her skin was as cold as ice.

Harry took hold of her wrist, feeling her pulse only faintly with his trembling fingers.

"LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO HER!!!" Harry screamed at his potion's teacher! "She looks as if, … she looks as if,… NO, GRACE!" he buried his face on her shoulder, tears moistening the fabric of her top.

Snape stepped closer to the couch, kneeling down besides Harry.

"This is most unusual… most unusual reaction." he muttered…

"What Do You Mean By That," Harry raised his tearstained face, looking into this hatefully composed face.

"Normally they don't… well you know, I just can't think of why she… this unusual response…"

"What are you talking about? Is she…?" Harry was in no condition to utter the question he was most afraid of.

"Of course she is not dead, you fool!" Snape snarled. "But I'll have to get a healer to check on her. You wait here."

"CRACK!"

Snape disappeared into thin air, leaving Harry alone with the motionless girl. He picked up her hand, pulling it to his lips.


"Stay with me, Grace. Hold on, there will be somebody to help you in a second. Just don't leave me," he pleaded with her, knowing that she would not respond.

Putting his head on to her shoulder, he sobbed into her hair which was spread out on the couch.

He heard somebody clear his throat, the sound coming from the direction of the door. 

Harry didn't look up for he knew who was standing there.

The only person he could possibly imagine to be here in this time of devastation.

The only person that would be here in his time of innermost need.

The only person that came to his mind when he thought of help and the only one who could ever be able to help him now.

"Professor Snape did make a grave mistake, Harry. Even though he had no way of knowing this, he acted inconsiderately. Let us hope that it's not too late. For he didn't think of who he was addressing with his stunning spell!"

***

Alright, tell me what you think! I hope you're not disappointed with where I'm taking this story. And I hope that all this wasn't too obvious :-).

So just let me know what you think of it.