As Dumbledore stood, I swept my gaze over the rest of the Hall, taking in the students, the ghosts hovering above the tables, and finally those sitting at the Grand Table. A small voice in my head noted that Harry wasn't there.

"Your attention, please," Dumbledore addressed. The Hall fell completely silent and turned its attention towards their Headmaster.

"Last night, at approximately midnight, the Morsmorde sign appeared over a small village in Surrey." He paused as the outburst took over the hall, and held up his hands again. "We do not know who it was, nor if Voldemort was directly or indirectly involved." He let his crystalline eyes travel along the faces of his students; most of who were openmouthed in shock, and wide eyed with fear.

"The Ministry of Magic," he continued, his voice maintaining a cool tone, "has attempted to persuade me to keep this information from you, but I feel that it is better to learn the truth now, rather than circulation of rumors."

I stared into my plate, wondering how I had ever been hungry. Morsmorde. He was back, this I was sure of. Dumbledore had told the Order at the end of Harry's Fifth year. That had been seven years ago and there had been many attacks since then. Certainly, they had been subtle attacks: A wizard would disappear, never to return. There had been deaths, but all had been skillfully covered up by the Daily Prophet. Now there was no hiding anymore.

"There were, indeed, fatalities." The word resonated off every ear in the room, and a steady buzz filled the air in its wake.

"While no one in this castle need fear any immediate danger, I would like to speak to the faculty. We need to arrange a secondary plan. Just in case," he added less-than-reassuringly. Most of the teachers nodded, and went about breakfast as though nothing had happened; save for the almost brutal force at which their sausages were stabbed.

After the crowds had dispersed some time later, I stood up and made to leave, only to turn back a moment later towards Harry.

"Waiting for something in particular?"

He glanced up at me with piercing green eyes and then back down at his untouched breakfast. "Not specifically... just thinking."

I sighed softly and moved back towards a seat next to him. "I take it you're not contemplating whether or not Sirius' obscenities are going to appear in your oatmeal."

A shadow of a smile flickered across his face. "No, afraid not."

A poke in the side persuaded him to continue. "I just didn't sleep well last night. I had the oddest dream."

"I know the feeling," I answered, and plunged temporarily into the nightmarish images that had overtaken my mind the previous evening. "Elaborate?"

"Well," he began, and turned towards me. "It starts out very dark, and completely silent. Then there's this terrible screaming, and I can't--"

"Get there until it's too late, and then the perpetrating wand turns to you," I answered quietly.

He nodded. "How did you know that?"

I closed my eyes for a moment, and concentrated, seeking out Harry's signature psyche. When I tried to penetrate through and into his thoughts the first time, there was a surprisingly strong block against me. But not strong enough for me to break into.

Close your eyes, I directed.

"Why?" he asked aloud.

Don't TALK, you idiot. think!

I sensed him close his eyes, and a moment later heard him within my own mind.

All right, now what?

Open your eyes. Figuratively speaking.

How the bloody hell am I supposed to figuratively open my eyes?

You know that little voice inside your head?

We've met once or twice.

Well, put a mental image to the voice.

How?

Do you trust me?

I think so.

Then let the barrier down completely and I'll help you.

I felt an internal struggle for a moment, and then felt the mental block he had put up dissipate.

Now what.

I smiled inwardly at his tone. It was nervous yet demanding all at once. Reach out and open your eyes.

He cracked open an eyelid, and the bond we had just shared was shattered. I jerked my eyes open in surprise, and he looked at me apologetically.

"I'm an oaf in the figuratively speaking world too."

"No," I answered, trying to maintain some form of calmness, as my mind reeled from being tossed back and forth. "I just didn't prepare you the right way. I shouldn't have been rummaging 'round the attic without you knowing full well what was going on."

He looked me up and down, obviously noting that I had begun to hyperventilate, and was, I assumed, white as a sheet.

"Are you all right?"

"Been better," I managed.

"You should get to the Hospital Wing."

"No, no. All I really need is a minute. I swear!" I added quickly at the glare he gave me. "I just haven't done this in awhile, and you have a lot roaming around your head. All I need is a bit of practice and I'll be right as rain."

He cocked his head to the side slightly. "What I don't understand is, why were you suddenly walking through my mind?"

"I was trying to figure out why we're having the same dream. Actually, I'd still like to know."

Harry sat back, and regarded me carefully. "I have to go out for most of the day today." he paused and then smiled. "But if you want to pick my brain over a Fire Whisky this evening, I certainly wouldn't object."

"Scoundrel," I teased, and took a last sip of tea before standing. "You're as bad as your godfather."

"I doubt that," he answered playfully. "Not once, during this whole ordeal, did I accost you. Doesn't that count for something?"

"I suppose I should be flattered. Or insulted, depending on how you look at it. All right then," I doffed an imaginary hat towards him. "I'll see you at eight."

"It's a date."

I turned around and shot him a look. "Is it now?"

He blushed rather violently, and stood up quickly, nearly tripping over his bag. "It's just a figure of speech!"

"Ooooooh," I said, mimicking the way he had spoken. "Then why are you beet red and talking four octaves above your normal tone?"

"No-no reason."

I turned on my heel and walked away, flashing him a smile as I went.

*Oh, brilliant Zella. You're flirting with Harry Potter. Just. Bloody. Brilliant. *

"I know that look," Crystal exclaimed, nearly scaring me out of my skin.

"Yes, it's the look of what the bloody hell are you doing in my room before me?" I answered, plopping down.

"No no, the one you had on before that. And for your information, I have a break between my next classes. I figured I would pop in and see if you were still hungover. Judging by the scowl on your face." She stopped and looked at me.

"So come on, who is he?"

"Who's who?" I asked heavily, summoning aspirin from my bedroom.

"Don't play dumb with me!!" she cried, jumping up.

"Why not? It seems to be your forte."

"Nooo, I meant, HEY!" She exclaimed as the insult sunk in. "I mean I know you too well, and there's a guy involved somewhere in that facial expression. "

"Not necessarily," I answered impassively, and she gave a snort that shook the rafters. Had there been rafters.

"Since you're so adamant, I may as well tell you, or you'll be outside my room with a glass to the door all evening."

"You get one glass, eavesdrop to ONE Door," Crystal said, and I snickered. "One door?"

"All right, a few doors."

I continued to glare.

"All right, I'm a nosy wench and I can't stand secrets. Now tell me!"

"Harry. I'm going to visit with Harry tonight."

"But Harry's coming here. To your room. The same room in which you sleep."

I looked up, abashed. "You're too twisted for WORDS!"

Crystal smiled. "They tell me that, yes. Now come on, we need to figure out what you're going to wear!"

She started to tug my arm towards the bedroom, stopping as I dug my heels into the carpet. "What are you waiting for?"

"I'm perfectly capable of picking out an outfit, thank you. Not that it matters, because it's not a date!"

Crystal smiled as though she knew everything, and released my hand. "Suuurrrrrrre you don't. And it's not, I believe you. Go on then, go pick out your garments. I'll be out here if you need me."

Forty-five minutes later found me amidst my wardrobe, still dancing around in a bra and feeling quite similar to an ass.

"Have you given up yet?" Crystal asked from outside my door."

I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. Damn her.

"Yes, oh omniscient one, I have. Pray tell, are you going to bestow your fashionably inclined wisdom upon me?"

The door opened, and a very smug looking Crystal stood in the frame, grinning ear to ear. "Oh, I say you go in that. Very becoming. Sure to catch his eye."

"Shut up and help me," I growled through gritted teeth.

Another half-hour and I looked almost presentable, for it turned out that there was a dark green clingy sweater and black pants hidden deep within a pile of discarded clothes that was approximately the size of Bosnia.

"What about your hair?" Crystal asked, picking up a lock of what had escaped from the ponytail.

"I'm rather hoping it remains attached to my scalp throughout the evening, why?" I asked curtly.

"This is NOT the time for sarcasm!" she exclaimed, and summoned virtually every piece of follicular equipment she owned.

"This is the time for-OW!!-What then?" I asked as a comb hit me squarely in the forehead.

"Major hair reconstruction," Crystal answered, in the manner of one about to enter a military battle. I expected her to order me to march at any moment.

"Move!" she barked, pointing towards the bathroom with a curling iron in her hands.

*Holy Crap, that's a bit close for comfort.*

"OWWWW!! Crystal, you're pulling my hair!"

"Well if you'd stop FIDGETING!"

"I'm not fidgeting, I'm trying to get away from lava-hot metal that is creeping dangerously close to my face!!"

"Dangerously close? Nothing's smoldering yet, I see no smoke."

"Let's not wait for you to cremate me with the curling iron before we become concerned, shall we?"

"You're such a baby! Calm down, you'll be fine if you hold still!"

"Ahhh!! I've never been particularly adept in Divination, but I see singed ends and burns resembling Blast Ended Skrewts in my Future!!"

"You're just being dramatic."

"No I'm not!! Hot!! HOT!! BURNING!! NOT GOOD!"

"What are you--- Oh, look at that."

"That's my hair that's sizzling. perhaps you'd like to do something about THAT?"

"I probably should, yes."

"Well let's get all pensive then, shall we? DO IT!"

"All right, all right!! It's done! Your hair lives!"

"I like what you've done with it. Would you like my hair medium or well done?"

"It's not that bad!"

"No, it's not. Do you hear that in my voice? Can we identify it?"

"Sarcasm?"

"Bravo, young scholar.."

"More sarcasm?"

"Fix it now, wench."

Another hour found me emerging from the bathroom, hair finally restored to normalcy, French-twisted and elegant. How ironic..

"Whoaaaa. What's the occasion?" Sirius asked, coming into the room uninvited and without knocking, heading straight for the kitchen.

"I'm meeting Harry for something tonight. Are you physically -incapable- of calling the House Elves?"

"Tastes better outta your fridge," Sirius answered with a mouthful of some form of food in his mouth.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed the armful of food he had taken. "Take your food, and your blasted squid, and get out! I have company coming and I don't need something vile and nasty on the couch."

Sirius paused and regarded me with his head cocked to the side. "You're talking about the squid, right?"

"Yeah sure."

He glared at me, and then walked over to the door with food, turning around with mouth open to say something else.

"You know, you---" he was cut off by a piece of bread I shoved deftly into his mouth to block out further speech.

"Fuscchhhhhhhhhinnn Igg!"

"Same to you, love!" I paused and turned towards Crystal. "You too. out!"

Crystal looked at me aghast. "But-"

"But nothing! You were here for prep, you're not sticking around for the whole evening! Go bother someone else!"

Like two toddlers, my comrades skulked their way out the door, sending sullen glances my way as I closed the door behind them.

Outside the door, they stood in the darkened corridor together, regarding each other with curiosity.

"Well," Sirius said easily, shifting the weight of food in his arms, "Since we've been banished from the House O' Zella, can I treat you to dinner?"

Crystal eyed him skeptically. "Can you cook?"

"Of course!" Sirius answered. "I just prefer not to use my own food."

"Ahh," Crystal answered, and nodded. The two of them disappeared down the hall, while I sunk to the ground on my side of the door, with an exasperated groan.

"Nit wits!"

Author's incredibly Random Notes: Dunno Who to dedicate this to.. Presumably to the one to whom I am holding the key of the fantasy files.

Done it. done it. Whoaaa. That's inventive. Let's look at the diagram. *Unfold.* *Unfold.**Unfold.* Wow.