I don't own anything, JK Rowling owns it all and that's why she's richer than the Queen of England. Am I richer than the Queen of England? No, not at all. So please don't sue me, you wouldn't get much.

Chapter Two

A Mysterious Rescue

"Severus Snape was indeed a Death Eater. However, he rejoined our side before Lord Voldemort's downfall and turned spy for us at great personal risk. He is now no more a Death Eater than I am."

-Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

"What made you think he'd really stopped supporting Voldemort, Professor?"

Dumbledore held Harry's gaze for a few seconds, and then said, "That, Harry, is a matter between Professor Snape and myself."

-Harry and Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

Harry woke that morning from a particularly restful sleep, surprisingly undisturbed by nightmares. His cheery mood was quickly interrupted when they all received their start of term notices, along with a homework list.

Ron groaned in horror. "How......how can they do this to us?" he stammered out, his ears growing bright red with fury. "We've less than a month of summer to do this," he said, pointing with disgust to the crumpled parchment.

Hermione wrinkled her brow in worry. "For some of these assignments we may need our new books." She stole a look at Harry's list and her jaw dropped. "You're taking Advanced POTIONS?" she asked shocked.

Harry felt his confidence waver and wondered for the umpteenth time what he was getting himself into. "Er, yeah. I am."

She looked awestruck. "But- but how did you get in? Snape only accepts "O" students, and no offence, but I doubt he'd make an exception for you, Harry."

He shrugged, seriously doubting his decision to take the class with every passing moment. "I have no idea, honestly, Hermione. Although I'm sure Snape will try to fail me out as soon as possible," he added bitterly.

Hermione squared her shoulders defiantly. "Not if I have anything to do with it. You do fine in that class when you concentrate, Harry. And I'll help you, of course," she promised with a sincere expression in her brown eyes.

Ron was still looking at Harry as if he'd gone mad. He shook his head in disbelief, shocked that his best friend was committing himself to another year in Snape's dungeon.

Mrs. Weasley agreed to take them to Diagon's Alley the following week. In the meantime, they were kept very busy with homework and Mrs. Weasley's new cleaning project. It seemed that all the rooms in the house had been decontaminated, save the attic.

The attic was worse than all the other rooms combined and much larger. The staircase that took them there was even cursed. As soon as one of them reached the fifth step, the staircase disappeared and they found themselves in a dark damp corridor that looked a cave tunnel. Ghostly images of manticores and chimaeras routinely jumped out at any passerby.

Ron was poking around in an old chest the first day they started in the attic when he yelped suddenly and jumped back.

The rest of the Weasley's, Hermione, and Harry curiously stared at him through the dusty air.

"Something stung me!" he yelled. Then the anxious look on his face slowly faded into a goofy smile. He threw his head back and roared with laughter. Mrs. Weasley hurried over to her younger son, concern etched in her plump face.

She slapped him lightly. "What is wrong with you!?" We have work to do and you acting like........ aaah!" she shrieked and covered her mouth as Ron started slowly rising into the air until he was floating comfortably above them. His head bumped along the decaying wooden beams which supported the ancient ceiling. He still had a stupidly gleeful look on his freckled face.

Mrs. Weasley was now closely inspecting the chest while the rest of them stared at Ron with gaping mouths. "Oh, no!" she cried and sighed. "Billywigs! A whole nest of them!" She quickly slammed the chest shut, but not before a small bizarre, blue insect quickly buzzed out of the way and zoomed towards Ginny's head. She screamed and tucked, while George quickly stunned the odd creature and pocketed it while his mother was watching her youngest son with an exasperated expression.

"Oh well, he's going to be like that for a few hours. Might as well take a break while a look up what to do about a Billywig infestation." She sighed heavily. "They're native to AUSTRALIA, for heaven's sake! I simply don't understand how all these creatures got in this house. Anyways," she eyed them all sternly. "I don't trust the sorts of things in this attic, so you lot aren't to be in here without me." Mrs. Weasley's eyes rested on Fred and George. "EVEN if you're of age."

The twins rolled their eyes at the same time, but knew better than to protest.

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The next week was dull with homework and housework until the day before they went to Diagon's Alley. It was an early quiet evening and everyone was in the attic as usual, wrapping up that day's work before supper.

They were interrupted by a shout from downstairs, which sounded like it came from the entrance hallway. Mrs. Weasley immediately looked up and worry flashed across her plump lined face.

"Molly! MOLLY! Quick! We need some help!"

She hurried downstairs and the others followed without a word.

When they got downstairs, Harry caught a flash of a pale, rumpled Tonks leading a small group into the kitchen. Moody and Mr. Weasley were supporting a figure in torn dark robes. His throat caught when he recognized who they were carrying: a bloody Remus Lupin.

Harry started down the stairs and into the dingy hallway before anyone could stop him, his heart beating frantically. No, no, no, he repeated anxiously. Mr. Weasley and Mad-Eye had cleared off the table and were laying Lupin on it.

He burst into the kitchen, breathless. Lupin was clutching his side, which was bleeding freely and a deep gash was visible on his ankle. But he had pulled himself up on his elbows and was trying to explain something to the other members of the Order in between gasps for air.

"We.......we must have been........they were waiting for us.... I think. There were only 'bout ten or so............the others are right behind us." Lupin's wide eyes met Moody's. "But they must know now. They know we have her. Dumbledore must be told."

Mrs. Weasley and Tonks were trying to bandage Lupin's wounds. "Oh, you should REALLY see a Healer, Remus," Mrs. Weasley said pleadingly. "These are quite bad."

The werewolf shook his head with determination written in his light brown eyes. "I'm fine. It's nothing."

Mr. Weasley wiped a smear of blood of his forehead with a grimy hand and leaned against the wall, clearly exhausted. "At least we got her out," he sighed. "And in the nick of time too," he added darkly.

"Will Dumbledore-," but Mrs. Weasley's next question was cut off abruptly by Mad-Eye. His vivid electric blue eye was staring at Harry.

"I don't think Potter should be hearing this quite yet," he said. The others seemed startled to have just suddenly noticed Harry's presence among them in the kitchen.

"Er," started Harry, suddenly feeling like an intruder. "Er, I just wanted to make sure Professor Lupin was okay."

Lupin smiled, although Harry could tell he was straining to do so. "I'm fine. Just a scrape."

"Okay, then. I'll just be upstairs, I guess," Harry said, slowly backing out of the room, although every part of him wanted to remain where he was. He was filled with curiosity about this "she" person. Who was she and where had then gone to get her?

Harry left the kitchen and jogged upstairs towards the imploring faces of his friends. They all crowded along the railing, jostling each other to get the best view.

"What's going on? Is Lupin okay? What happened to the rest of them?"

Harry started to answer, but George waved at him to stop. "Wait, wait! Someone else is coming in." He grabbed for something in his pockets and Fred copied him. They both pulled out what appeared to be an old, faded black eye patch. It was attached to a suspiciously familiar length of flesh-colored string.

"Have a look, mate," Fred said and pushed the device into Harry's hands. He had a shrewd idea that this was one of the new notorious "Spy Sensors." He put the patch over one of his eyes and stuck the string in his ear. George threw the other ends of the string over the railing.

It was as if he was downstairs, a few feet away from the door. The front door opened and two people quickly stepped inside, and ushered a second pair in. Harry recognized three of the wizards as Kingsley Shacklebolt, Dedalus Diggle, and Mungdungus Fletcher.

The fourth was a witch, wearing a dark hooded robe. He saw a slender pair of hands lower the hood and glimpsed the back of her shining, thick long black hair. He suddenly felt like his veins had been filled with Ice Mints, and as he squinted to get a better look, the Sensor started spinning, blurring any vision he had.

"Damn! I hate when they do that! Stupid kink in the system. We haven't worked it out yet," said Fred apologetically.

But Harry didn't even take notice of their words. A sick, sinking feeling was filling him and he remembered what Ron and Hermione had told him when he first arrived.

"Oh, another thing! They got a Death Eater to go turn-coat!"

"We don't know that, Ron. You're exaggerating. They didn't say anything like that. But we think they may have convinced one of Voldemort's supporters to join them."

No, it couldn't be. It couldn't be her. They would NEVER, EVER believe her. Lupin would have killed her if he had ever laid eyes on her again, not risk his life to rescue her, Harry thought desperately.

The others were excitedly discussing what was going on. Like Harry, they came to the same conclusion about the witch.

"Oooo, you think she used to be a Death Eater?" Ginny wondered.

Harry had to get away. He couldn't stand being near all these people. He whirled around and headed for his room. His mind was spinning with possibilities. Then one voice broke through the crowded chaos of his brain.

            "Bitty baby Potter, did you love him?"

Cold fury washed over Harry. He couldn't deal with this uncertainty. He couldn't stand the thought of Sirius's killer in his house. The house that seemed so empty and different without him.

He turned around and started to angrily march back downstairs. He bumped into Mrs. Weasley, who held him out at an arm's length. "Now where are you going, dear?"

Harry resisted the urge to struggle at the sight of her kind face. She looked concerned at the wild look in his bright green eyes.

"Harry, dear, are you alright?"

He couldn't stop the words from spilling out. "Is that..... is that........HER?" he burst.

Mrs. Weasley looked confused and was now staring at him like he was suddenly touched in the head. "Is who her?" she asked, slowing drawing out each word as if she was speaking to a five year old.

"Her!" Harry was finding it hard to say the name. He suddenly understood while some wizards preferred not to say Voldemort. Saying a name that vile and foul contaminated your mouth.

"Bellatrix. Was that her?" he asked in a calmer tone.

The color drained from Mrs. Weasley's freckled face and she abruptly let go of his arm. "Good heavens, no! Why would you think that?"

He sighed and exhaled slowly, not even realizing he had been holding his breath. "I-I just thought it looked like her," he said, feeling his face flush. He knew the others were probably watching him carefully.

"Sorry," he said lightly. "My mistake." Harry backed up and hurried to his room.

He sunk onto his bed and stared blankly at the wall. He couldn't believe how he had fallen apart in front of the Weasley's. What was wrong with him, acting mad like that? He heard Mrs. Weasley screaming at the others about eavesdropping could cause.

Harry unconsciously rubbed his forehead and kicked off his sneakers. He lay back on the bed and gazed at the musty green canopy. His mind automatically started replaying that horrible night at the Department of Ministries.

But as the familiar nightmare started, something changed. Sirius was no longer falling through an ancient stone arch. He was laughing and singing Christmas carols in Grimmauld place while hanging hats on the row of dead house elves.

Harry smiled slightly in his sleep at the happy memory, all thoughts of Bellatrix gone for the moment.

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Mrs. Weasley shook Harry awake early the next morning. He stared at her uncomprehendingly at first, and then groggily remembered the trip to Diagon Alley. He and Ron dressed quickly and hurried downstairs. Several members of the Order were still there, looking exhausted as they sipped coffee. Their conversations immediately stopped when Harry and Ron entered the kitchen.

Hermione and Ginny came in shortly after, followed by the twins who were looking unusually alert and chipper for such an early hour.

"Gotta visit the office," George said, rubbing his hands together conspiratorially. Fred smirked. Harry saw Mrs. Weasley roll her eyes at the toaster.

They finished breakfast and then gathered around the fire in the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley was obviously in a hurry. She seemed to want to get them out of the house as quickly as possible. She took a pinch of Floo powder from the mantle and tossed it onto the merrily cracking flames.

Fred and George had already Apparated, gleeful at the jealous looks tossed their way by Ron and Ginny. Harry stepped into the fire and said clearly, "Diagon Alley."

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