Disclaimer: I don't own anything but Pandora and even she has lodged an official complaint about this. I'm not doing this for money as I'm not making any and don't expect to.

Additional: I would like to thank Jagged Epiphany for giving me permission to spider-sit Princess for a while.

Chapter 16: Magical Snapshots

'So Pandora, what did you think of your first day?' Ron plopped himself besides her on the ever-warm velvet lounge.

'It was good thankyou Ron. That Professor Snape is an interesting character. What's his story?'

Ron proceeded to talk all about Snape as a Death Eater and at school with Harry's parents and the antics surrounding Harry's parents and some other people called Sirius, Peter and Professor Lupin. Ron also aired his suspicious about Snape's possible continual alignment with You-Know-Who.

Harry and Hermione walked in halfway through Ron's animated talk, Snuffles following them. Snuffles took one look at Pandora and walked over, resting his head on her lap. She stroked his ears absently.

Ron was just getting worked up about the more recent events in the Shrieking Shack when Hermione interrupted.

'Ron, she's asleep.'

Sure enough Pandora's head was nodded forward, her dark hair covering her like a Gothic Cousin It. Snuffles looked up at her and licked her on the face.

'What?' She muttered, slowly opening her eyes to see a rather hurt looking Ron. 'I'm sorry Ron, I don't feel too great at the moment and I nod off like that sometimes. I should be right in a day or two.'

'What's wrong?' asked Harry, who wasn't feeling 100% himself.

'Oh, it's nothing.' Pandora held her stare one moment too long before she bolted up to her dorm.

'What's her story?' Ron inquired of no one in particular.

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Fred and George were not having much luck. Hours of stringent experimentation had yet to have perfected the Popeye Pickles and Lee's spider Princess had got into the Spanish Fly meaning she crawled around like her new title was 'The female Casanova of the Spider world;' and her sole duty was to treble the spider population of Hogwarts. Lee was not impressed at his inability to find his beautiful tarantula and Alicia wouldn't speak to either of them and appeared to be suffering a major form of Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder as a result of Princess' absence.

They hadn't received any howlers yet, but were anticipating one once there mother had heard about them being caught at Hogsmeade on their first day by Professor Sprout who had looked ready to blossom into a red, angry Snap-Dragon.

Draco had also evidently told his father about the occurrences on the Hogwarts express. George and Fred had received separate letters from Lucius at breakfast briefly stipulating the possible repercussions of interfering with Draco ever again. This had unsettled them and had resulted in Draco receiving a wide berth at Lunch.

To add to the pile of dirty laundry the twins had rapidly accumulated, McGonagall appeared to have lost any sense of humour about any of their antics. She had pulled them aside in the Great Hall at breakfast and threatened them with being dismissed from the Gryffindor Quidditch team if they came close to being identified as responsible for any serious prank. This had rapidly scaled down Operation Comic War and meant the twins had actually stopped pranking altogether for the moment.

George and Fred were rapidly developing a sense of depressed anxiety with no outlet to their mischievous minds. McGonagall had definitely done the wrong thing and as a result all houses were liable to suffer eventually.

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'Eucalyptus Drop.' The Gargoyle promptly jumped out of the way of the deputy head mistress who bustled quickly in.

'Ahh Minerva. Would you like an Everlasting Gobstopper?'

'No Thankyou Albus.' Was the curt reply to the sparkling eyes. 'I believe you wish to see me?'

'Yes, please sit down.' She obeyed, but not before scornfully looking at the sleeping portraits.

'Minerva, I wish to discuss a couple of things. Firstly I want your opinion of having Harry, Ron and Hermione present at the meeting on Friday after dinner.'

'It would be your decision Albus, but are you sure? I mean knowing Hermione, she has probably got it half figured out already and Harry will probably be alright with it, but I am not sure about Ron. He may not come from a rich wizarding family, but he comes from an old wizarding family and you know how they view seers. Why do you think it is necessary?'

'I believe that Ron, Hermione and Harry have begun to befriend Pandora. I believe that you are right about Hermione being close to figuring it out if she hasn't already. I think that Harry had a right to know that Pandora has been inside his subconscious and I believe that excluding Ron will only serve to emphasise the invisibility he already feels.'

'All that is fair enough, but is it suitable to tell these children in the same manner as the explanation given to the teachers?'

'No Minerva. I intend on asking Pandora's permission first to speak to Harry separately. I think it is important that everything is explained to Harry because of the fact that he has been invaded without permission. I will ask Pandora to briefly explain to Ron, prior to joining us in the meeting, which alone shall be sufficient for Hermione.'

Minerva bristled like an angry porcupine in one of her transfiguration lessons. If she had her way, the students would not be told at all. Hermione would find out of her own accord, but she has the brains to be directly confrontational and then shut up about it. She was still concerned about Ron's reaction.

'You know best of course Albus.' She stood to leave, her velvet cloak clinging to the chair as if to keep her a little longer.

'One more thing Minerva.'

'Yes?' she swivelled half round and looked condescendingly through her glasses at the headmaster, who only grinned at the familiar gesture.

'The restrictions you have placed in the Weasley twins. I do not really believe them in anyone's best interest. You know they mean no serious harm and I fear that forbidding them from what is part of their nature may have bad consequences for all of us here.'

The bristles stood up on end. Albus had never before questioned her authority or reasoning, but he was supposed to know best. She nodded and left.

Albus Dumbeldore looked into the space left by his deputy and sighed heavily.

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Two figures cast strange shadows in the flickering light thrown by a single candle in a dank corner. The single room that made up the derelict cottage was etched with the redolence of damp and death. Years of forgotten corpses of animals never loved or remembered were embedded in the rotten wood floor. The way the grim reaper had decorated the room meant the only thing absent was the words 'Helter Skelter' painted on the walls in blood.

One strange pathetic shadow played with one metal arm as though it were a new toy, gently he held it and wriggled its fingers looking as though he were anticipating it disappearing before his eyes, which were glassy and sunken. The stature was something like Igor, the ever-submissive servant forever forbidden to be taller than his Dracula.

'Is this a suitable place my Lord?' questioned the first shadow in a lowly squeak.

The second far superior shadow almost appeared to be engulfing the room. It stood straight and proud, it's red eyes glowing like some evil creature stunned by the lights of an oncoming car. Those empty eyes scanned the surroundings, absorbing everything observed in a vacuum of memory.

'For now it will do. How successful was the first plan?"

"It was very successful my Lord. The simple charm had the students leaving the hall in a great rush, at least that is what has been reported. Tainting the first batch of Pumpkin Juice was a brilliant concept Master."

"Has the new plan been implemented?'

The first shadow cowered like a beaten wife anticipating another blow. 'Not yet Master. Since that photographer, security has once again been strengthened and your loyal servants have yet to find a successful method around it.' The last word was barely a whisper as the glassy eyes watched the scarlet one darken to crimson.

'There is always a way. Has anyone considered trying through the kitchens?'

Igor shook his head slowly.

'Those house-elves are the stones in Albus Dumbeldore's shoes. They'll talk easily enough. Go shopping for some socks.'

The terrified servant bowed and left, never daring to ask the multitude of questions that had come to his submissive mind.

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Author's Note: Yes it has certainely been an age. I'm not to upset you guys with details of how horrible this year has been for me, but it hasn't been good. But I am still around and still writing. This story is still going slowly and I am still writing for it, just not as regularly as I used to. I would like to thank all of you for clinging in there and continuing to support me. It really means a lot.