Chapter 7: Growing up

"My lover's gone, his boots no longer by my door.
He left at dawn
and as I slept I felt him go

Returns no more,
I will not watch the ocean,

My lover's gone,
no earthly ships will ever
Bring him home again,
bring him home again" My lover's gone, Dido.

June 1997.

And so they have left.

The only surprise had been Draco. Even in face of him standing with the teachers and other students to defend the school, he was more than half-expected to run and join the Death Eater ranks. Which he didn't. He joined the ministry and was currently working as an Unspeakable. Harry, Ron and Hermione, to nobody's surprise, had run to Auror training.

The castle was so eerily silent. Half of the student board had left- to hiding or to go fighting, but left nevertheless. It was not as they could be kept forever. Time goes by, and the remaining children were left alone with neurotic teachers and Aurors for the rest of their time at the castle.

Not that they considered themselves children any longer. There are no children at war.

The halls were so cold, so lonely. Depressing, really. And yet, with all the craziness and wariness and tension, one could not help but love Hogwarts.

'Even when you hate it at the same time', Arien thought.

It was five a.m. of a promisingly stunning June morning. The morning of June 17th. Her essay for Defence against the Dark arts lay on her feet, the result of a night's work. And several books around her, opened. The librarian would not come for another couple of hours, but Arien'd better clean up the mess.

The library. Her shelter on the storm. The place where everything was as it was supposed to be, where everything made sense. The place she could be alone and think.

She understood the sorting hat's decision after a couple of months in the Ravenclaw tower. She knew the Hufflepuff quarters where on the first floor, near the kitchens. After the assault of 96's Christmas, every student knew where every other house's headquarters were. The witty, clever, ever learn-yearning young people of that House were really like family. McGonagall hadn't lied at the first day of school.

She sighed and pulled a little bottle out of her backpack. It was not artistically made, wizards didn't seem to mind making a piece of art for potion bottles, but only the potions themselves. She smiled. The Auror who was teaching Potions, Mr. Caledon, was not that bad. Strict, but not terrifying.

Another sip of Ageing Potion. Another probable hundred years went down her throat. Well, hundred were certainly exaggerating. But a decade, that's almost a given. How many now? Twenty years? Thirty ? She was supposed to be twenty-three. She was, actually, turning twenty-four in October. Just another thing nobody could ever know.

Arien collected the books and put them back to the shelves. Her abilities in Arithmancy were as great as Carl's - almost non-existent. Well, risk the almost. Thanks to that, no matter how hard she tried to predict the blasted opening of the gate, Arien couldn't . Arithmancy and Arien do not become in a non-negative sentence, Period. No matter how many nights she'd spent looking through the books, doing and redoing the math, checking the runes, anything. She would always get three different results to the same problem- actually, if it wasn't necessary to calculate the opening of the damned gate, she would have quit it ages ago. And divination was just out of consideration- the teacher had never been good, and when she fell protecting the school, Dumbledore hadn't called another Seer. Either he thought the resistance would need them all, or that they had other things, more important things, to learn. Like staying alive.

She pulled another book of Defense against the Dark Arts, 'Battling with beasts'. The name was quite appropriate, she mused.

Acromantulas.

'Acromantulas were first reported in the magical word approximately at 2.000 B.C., in both Greek and Italian peninsulas, blending themselves with both the mythical and the magical creatures of those places. Most the muggles affected by those creatures had been either killed or obliviated later, and they are believed to have spread the legend of the Hydra. Some of the Aurors of those times were called from the Egyptian Minister of magic, in co-operation with the Arabian wizarding community, to take care of the beasts.

'These are beasts unlike everything we knew before. They seem to be extremely resilient to magic, though not as much as dragons. They seem to be vulnerable only in the eyes and the back of their abdomens, having very strong paws, the Abu-Simbel Institute of Magic recommends using 'Conjunctivitus or Stupefy, if the wizard is powerful enough to stun the beast alone, if not, go in groups of four or five. Curiously enough, magical enforced blades are rather efficient in the killing of this particular beast- in fact, there were some muggles who could deal with a small number of them with ordinary blades or spears...'

Arien closed the book with a dull 'thud', her heart jumping wildly in her chest. She was now sure that the Portal had opened four thousand years ago, at least. That was encouraging only in part. The elf did not wish to spend that long a time in the wizarding world, no matter how exciting it could be. It was too dangerous. If only she knew the patterns of the gate, she could calculate the intervals between the bridges.

However, as the whole of Hogwarts knew, she was a complete disaster at Arithmancy and Runes. Arien would never let anyone know of that at home, if ever she managed to return- that an elf could not decipher the meaning of runes when she had the code right before her.

Therefore she stood there, furiously recalling every bit of information her mother had given her about the First Age, Valinor, Melkor and his spider accomplice. The first rays of morning gave her no clues, so she put the books back on the shelves, gathered her parchment and left to the Great hall.

''

(consider cutting this???)

Ginny stared at her plate of porridge blankly.

'They are gone.'

Nobody even knew about it. People thought she was worried sick because of Harry, Hermione, and her family in general. Well, that was true. But there was something else bothering her.

Draco.

In one year's time, she'd be out of Hogwarts and into the chaos that the world was now. She had received a letter from her family late in September, right after the graduated students left. Things were pretty bad outside. Somehow, her family was still alive- even her one hundred and sixty years old great-grandmother Elisa.

Muggles, poor dears, had no idea of what was going on. The ministries of Magic throughout the world were having great difficulty in preventing another world war. The muggles were under the belief that they were under a biological war, with hundreds of muggles being found dead- with no apparent reason, or just in deep comma – again with no apparent reason.

They didn't know the dementors were among them, delighting themselves on the kill. They didn't know the wizarding community was struggling to fight a hundred maniacs with muggle-slain craving. The president of the United States had even gone hysterical when their prime minister of Magic first tried to contact him. But then again, he was being blamed for releasing cold-war chemical and biological weapons on Europe to delay the establishment of the Euro and other economical pacts.

As they didn't know whom to blame, they blamed everyone. This they had in common with the wizarding community: the panic.

"Ginny, you've got to eat" Colin ordered. From somewhere beyond the fog that was her mind. She turned to the general direction of the sound and blinked several times, hard. As the real world came back to focus, she was able to see the concerned face of her classmate, now a very attracting sixteen year old boy. No, young man. He'd lost his parents sometime last spring, she recalled that. When he left the school, he'd be the tutor of his younger brother, Denis, who'd leave right after him.

Straight to the mouth of the beast. Oh, shit.

"I'm not hungry" she said, honestly. She'd absolutely lost her appetite since September.

"Even so." He replied, sounding very much like her father. "Eat. Being ill will do you no good."

Since when had he gotten so wise?

She began putting spoonfuls of porridge in, not really tasting it. If she was not so lost in her thoughts, she'd be shocked she'd obeyed without much arguing.

((end of cutting??? Section)

''

''

"What was that at the club, Arien?"

Carl had grown almost to her height – he'd been a head shorter than her at the first year. In some ways, he was still pretty much the same boy. Book-addicted. Chess-fanatic. Witty, but calm and extraordinarily sure of his character and his power to the point he didn't find it necessary to gloat about himself. One of those people who knew who they were and were not in a hurry for the rest of the world to realise it- in fact, he didn't mind the rest of the world's worship. He was also kind, caring and a gentleman in any circumstance. He'd told her once the Hat considered putting him in Hufflepuff. On the other hand, he was now less carefree, less cool, and his every word hid a huge amount of calculation and consideration before being uttered. He, with all the students on those walls, had lost his innocence and his youth way too fast. He was always hanging around her in their free time-, which unfortunately was very sparse. They were the Ravenclaw version of the tenacious Trio – only that they didn't get into nearly as much trouble, as they were either more sensible or simply luckier. He was often the voice of reason when they faced a dead end. Sarah was the adventurous one, curious and almost reckless.

"Whatever do you mean?" Arien asked neutrally.

"Don't try to outsmart a Ravenclaw, Arien, even if you are a Ravenclaw." He stated cockily, in mocked arrogance, and the two girlfriends chuckled quietly.

"My apologies, kind sir. I should have known better."

"Why, really, Arien. What was that?" Sarah asked, scrutinizing her friend.

"How on earth will I know?" she replied simply. A pang of sadness struck her –' three years ago I'd say how on middle-earth am I supposed to know... if I come back... will I be a foreign there as much as I am here? Am I a foreign here yet? Will I want to come back at all?'

"Earth to Arien, earth to Arien... anyone home?" Sarah called her out of her dark thoughts.

"What?"

"I don't think she'd listened." Carl pointed.

"Oh, well... dear, you've got to pay attention on real life, you know? Anyway, we were telling you we are a couple."

She smiled. "Finally."

"What?" Carl demanded. Sarah could only gasp. "You knew?"

"Don't try to outsmart a Ravenclaw, even if you are a Ravenclaw..." she grinned "Oh, guys, you didn't really think I didn't know, did you?"

"I am most positively sure I was discreet about us, darling." Carl defended himself with all dignity. Arien laced her arms around both her friends.

"Yes, but you couldn't quite hide that goofy grin out of you face, neither Sarah could quite cover her dreamy sighs... should I go on?"

"No, I got the idea." Sarah managed to blurt.

''

It had been a long, long journey. He'd done it before, of course... in other circumstances, five years ago. Back then he'd come to protect his godson and get his hands on Pettigrew's throat. If only he had killed him that night...

But dwelling in the past would do him no good – he had refused it when those horrible dementors surrounded him, he still refused it now. He had a mission, a purpose, and a goal. And it was Hogwarts, again, after all those years. Who else would be able to get into the wards of the school?

Stealthily entering the Shrieking Sack, he used the good old secret passage to the whomping willow. He'd have to get out of the tree's reach quickly, as he hadn't pressed down the knot. That done, he moved quickly inside the castle. He needed to give the headmaster news of the Resistance's advances and losses.

"At this rate we'll have no more wizards left in few years time, Dumbledore." Sirius was back in his human form, having his first proper meal in a month, though the matters at hand were too important to wait. So, they were talking as they ate, in the welcome safety of the headmaster's office.

"Let's cling to hope, old friend. Hope, and hard work, and it may go well in the end. "

"We have centres in both South and North America, Australia, China, Egypt And France. Western Europe is being troublesome, but Natie is doing a good job and we shall have a G.Q. there soon. For now..." Sirius took a yellow envelope out of his pocket "this is the updated list. It was made a week ago."

"And who is in charge now, my friend?"

"Bird is the new Minister of Magic, as Fudge got himself killed. Tried to make up for his past mistakes and ended up screwing it royally. Bird is a good man, and he has the guts to do what must be done. I believe things are less dark now."

Dumbledore was scanning the list, going through the names of students' relatives that had been killed in the last two months. Then he saw one of the last names and froze.

"Perce Weasley?"

"He was caught. When we got there, there was nothing we could do about."

"We can't lose that much spies, Sirius, it does us no good."

"Well, what can I say? They are getting smart. I'll give them that, they're getting smart."

''

(consider cutting this as well))

"They are in mission for the resistance now, Ginny, I can't tell you where. It's just big." Sirius said, holding her hands at the headmaster's office. He hadn't left the place yet, Ginny had been brought there because she was a friend of his, his godson's best friend's sister and a good person. And, like all Weasleys, she would go into the army as soon as she was out of school- that's just the way they are.

"Are they safe? I mean, as safe as possible under the circumstances, of course..."

"Yes, as safe as anyone could be. But Ginny, that's not why I wanted to talk to you, though."

Suddenly she knew she didn't want to hear whatever he was about to say.

"We lost Percy, Ginny. A month ago. Fallen in action."

((end of cutting section))

''

April of 1998, Wales.

Draco strode to the ancient ruins of a castle –or that was what it would've looked like, to a muggle. For it was actually the G.Q of the Resistance at the Great Britain – all senior agents had agreed that place it at Hogwarts (as it had been on the first rise of Voldemort) would be folly and only serve to increase the already remarkable threat hanging over the greatest school of witchcraft and wizardry of the British islands.

With the switch of Minister of Magic, last September, the Resistance had finally become truly joined with the official forces of the Ministry – and his first task had been fulfilled.

For he, Draco Malfoy, had been sent to the Ministry to help Arthur Weasley on bringing the government back to Earth. For months, he had used his slytherin traits to its maximum to make people realise their current course of action was less than optimal. Actually, less than minimal, really... for him, being a slytherin, a Malfoy, the son of the likely second-in-command Death eater, to get inside the ministry, manipulate wizards with far more experience than himself, and eventually even win the trust of his- still oblivious- father-in-law-to-be, had been a great accomplishment.

And now the two light armies were united. And he had helped to make it.

And come to think of it, Scarface was actually doing what he planned with the other Unspeakables. For he was also in the Department who traced the strategy of the wizarding army.

Obviously Draco couldn't go around with the looks he had inherited. The Death eaters- and his father in special, he had no doubts on that- were very much pissed off about his 'betrayal'. So he lived among the muggles, dyed his hair dark-brown and used black contact lenses when he was not home.

Finally reaching the gigantic oak door that lead to the meeting room, he retrieved his wand and murmured the password. Bill Weasley had come from Egypt, taking a break from his Gringots job, to test the wards around the G.Q.'s , the Ministry, the wizarding schools and the wizards that were a potential target for the Death Eaters.

Entering the room, he found the usual people gathered around the massive oak table. Sirius Black, cleared due to an undeniable apparition of Peter Pettigrew at one of the D.E. attacks; Remus Lupin, his former DADA teacher; Minerva McGonagall, former royal-bitch and head of Gryffindor House- and Dumbledore's right arm; Arabella Figgs, squibb and secret bodyguard of Scarface all through his childhood, with Mad-eyed-Moody, of whom he'd better not to say a word. Bradley, Bird's man of trust; Bird, The Man himself, some Unspeakables like Draco himself, and the delegations of Belgian, France, Germany and Spain.- all conveniently checked and re-checked under Veritaserum. The memories of spies within the high table were all too strong for them to be careless. Not to mention what was at stake- one word breathed and the word would have even less wizards on it. Not that they could give themselves such a luxury. All in all, about thirty people sat at the table.

He silently took his place, nodding to the others, and waited for Bird to define the schedule of the meeting. Security plans were discussed, attacks planned, and they stood there well into the night, carefully outlining every move they would do in the next two weeks. Apparently, the Wonder Trio had been successful in blasting one D.E.'s den in Nigeria the night before, and they would now analyse what to do with the information taken from them.

And in September, Ginny would leave Hogwarts. He had personally asked Dumbledore to perform the Fidelius on them when she left- so they could live together in relative peace. Of course it would be difficult, especially with her family, but he was seeing a light at the end of the tunnel, and that was a lot more than he'd asked for.

''

June of 1998.

Fourth years Ravenclaw and Gryffindor left the Healing class to their rooms, exhausted. Poppy had taught them some basic wandless healing magic that drained a lot of energy from the wizards. Of course they were excused from the next class, Herbology, for absolute and utter lack of energy.

"Thank god it's Saturday!" cried Deborah Marshal.

"Tell me about it!' said Gabriel Stewart. Under martial law, the only free day the students got was Sunday. After all, they had to accommodate Advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts, Junior Auror training, duelling club and magical Healing to their already busy schedule. The students were not the ones who were slightly paranoid, after all.

"Hey, Arien, you up to some matches of Explosive Snaps?" asked Selena.

"No, but I think I'll give the Wizarding chess another try later tonight." she chuckled.

"You know, Arien... I knew, deep down inside, you were not a squib." Carl replied seriously. Sarah nodded vigorously.

"We were worried about you, girl."

"Hey!"

"Seriously." Sarah professed.

"Sarah, you wouldn't recognise seriousness if it was a naked young man dancing in front of you with a red hat."

"Hey, it's my girlfriend you're talking with. Don't give her ideas."

"Sorry." She smiled sheepishly.

"So you'll finally give in and take lessons with the master, huh?" at that exact second, he reminded her so much of Ron her heart sank. Her friends were far, far away. So far away she couldn't reach their minds anymore, even when she could endure the stress and pain of putting her mental barriers down and go 'hunting'. They must be in the continent.

She had a secret dread of what might happen when she was forced to cross the ocean – she was half-elven, a first generation at that. It wasn't illogical to think she might- she may- have the same longing for the ocean the First Born had. and that was a scary thought.

"Yes, you'll have you chance to make me pay for all those punches I had you getting. But I must seek the headmaster first."

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, no big deal. It's just counselling – you know, the trouble maker has to see the Headmaster, so he could try to put some sense into that thick skull of hers..."

"I thought he'd forgiven you. It's been an awful lot of time since whatever it was that had gone wrong between you."

'Oh, you mean that night I freaked out and run to the forest, not to mention that I almost got myself killed by a super-sized evil spider which came from my very own world?'

Speaking of which, could it be they are relatives of Ungoliant (considering those damned elves haven't exaggerated everything, as it was their habit)?

"Well, he watches me all the time. Seems I'm the trouble-maker of the school now that most the Weasleys are gone."

'Ginny leaves this September... make sure you'll say goodbye to her... make sure you'll meet her afterwards... how on earth am I supposed to make sure we'll be alive to meet each other later?'

Shaking the gloomy thoughts off her head, Arien braved a smile for her audience and picked up her bag. "Well, I better go. See you later."

"See you," they replied absentmindedly, already pulling off the gameboard.

She switched the backpack to the other shoulder, the very first one she'd bought, as she hadn't really time to go to Diagon Alley since that first visits on her first week on Earth.

Locked. Trapped. Caged.

Not that she didn't love the school. She did. A lot. She found in herself a thirst for knowledge that was insatiable – she would never get tired of reading in the quiet of the library at the silent hours of the night- even in her book lust, there was still a good three quarters of the library she hadn't read yet. Neither would she get tired of absorbing whatever it is that her teachers laid before her wondered eyes. Nor the discussions about both the magical and muggle worlds. Hogwarts had been a blessing, and she thanked her lucky stars for being graced with enrolling there before the storm has struck. One year later, and she wouldn't be able to. One year later and she'd be stuck and lost in the muggle world, never knowing her full potential.

Still ... all her being screamed with the torture of being kept indoors. She was a child of nature, born to wander free through the woods, to swim carefree in the rivers and lakes, to run wild in the meadows. Not to madden slowly between those silent, inflexible stone walls. Oh, yes, there are walls, that pretend to be doors, and doors that pretend to be walls, paintings that are doors, stairs changing ... an infinite number of secret places and chambers that opened only under specific situations, only on specific days, and it was a wonderful challenge for her restless and curious mind- something to focus on. Challenge.

But it was still maddening.

With a sight, she stopped before the gargoyle at the fifth floor. As it was a magical statue, it was useless to try reading his mind- and honestly, she was far too tired for that. Too many dark thoughts on her head, too many uncertainties, too many questions, too much. Too much everything.

It opened by itself, and Arien climbed the spiral stairs to the well-known Headmaster's Office.

"Hello there , Arien. How are you feeling today?" the headmaster was, as always, chewing some of those little candies. Arien sank in the nearest armchair.

"Trapped. Breathless. Nervous wreck. Oh, please, Albus, I need to go to the forest. Any forest, just let me spend some hours there."

Dumbledore sighed, the twinkle of his eyes gone.

"I understand at this particular age you are very impetuous, my dear child ... after all, I do remember how it was to be young. But you must understand that we are at war, and the forbidden forest is not only off-limits, but also very much a suicide. You could have been killed."

Arien turned her face to look at the fire on the hearth, unable to sustain the gaze of the older wizard. If Galadriel was remotely like that, she'd pray to the heavens never to meet the she-elf. But then again, she prayed so everyday anyway.

"They came from my world, did you know?"

"What makes you think so?" a master, probing his pupil.

"I had heard of them in my world. There had been one that was quite famous, called Ungoliant. She lived at the first age, and she was let into Valinor to destroy the realm, and she drained the light of the Holy Trees. The last fruits of those trees were supposed to have become the sun and the moon- but that can, and probably is, just elven rubbish. They love to embellish stories like that. The spider-part, however is probably true. Then she left Valinor and hid on the dark places of middle earth and, somehow, bred. And when I met these creatures at the forest I made the link in my mind, then I found at the library that they appeared in this world four thousand years ago."

Dumbledore was still paying attention, a curious glow on his eyes, but no other show of emotion or interest in his face.

"The gate was opened four thousand years ago. "

"I've come to find a shorter period, my dear. Something between five hundred years and one hundred years from one portal opening to the other."

"Five hundred years? I cannot wait that long!" she screamed, utterly frustrated.

"Are you sure you want to go back, Arien?" he asked pointedly.

Damn him. DAMN HIM.

"Don't know." A whisper. "I don't know anything..."

"Oh, "he said, back to the old-eccentric-wizard-mode "Socrates once said 'all I know is that I know nothing', and he was considered the wisest of his country. He's still considered one of the wisest people ever to grace Earth!"

"Oh, come on!" Arien lost her patience. It was a cycle- she went to the woods, and her temper went numb for months. She became a good-tempered, mild-mannered girl...and then she started feeling confined, and her foul mood arose back. "You know what I mean!"

"No I don't, thought I might have an idea. Why don't you tell me tough? The I can say something, based on my previous experience with teenagers in distress."

((consider cutting this))

She gave the idea some consideration ... the Headmaster certainly had experience in handling with wild emotions of unpredictable students. Thought she highly doubted he'd dealt with an utterly lost half-elven girl. Deciding voicing her concerns might help her understanding them – somehow alike the almost-forgotten diary he had once urged her to keep.

"Who am I, Albus? I'm no longer who I was when I got here. I don't know where I belong anymore, I don't know even if I want to go home, thought staying here would be far too hard to my taste ... seeing the people I care about die, time after time..."

"Death is just the next big adventure, Arien."

"For those who are going away, yes. But for those who stay behind?"

"For that I have no answer, except that we must live our lives as fully as we can. Carpe diem, Arien. Enjoy the day. Tomorrow will bring its own sorrow, but let's not grieve till time has come."

Words of wisdom. Yes, that she could do.

"All right. But then Albus ...who am I? I'm supposed to be a child, but I'm not. I don't feel like a child, most the times I feel old. Far older than I should at this age."

"Arien... under the current circumstances... I am sorry –"

"I'm not speaking of the war. I'm speaking of me. I was raised among humans. A human my age is almost an adult – but I'm not supposed to be so. And yet, I feel it, I feel so. Some days, I'm childish, I want only to play games and have fun. Other times, I get myself thinking things I shouldn't be thinking about."

To her absolute disbelief and horror, he laughed. Laughed, of all things!

"That, my dear, is called adolescence. Am I to understand that you have developed a crush on someone?" he pointed, hitting the target.

Arien swore loudly and profusely, not minding at all the horrified reactions of the previous headmasters paintings- Professor Dippet was purple in repressed fury. Damn him, damn him, DAMN HIM!

"That should lead to a positive conclusion, then" said Dumbledore, still trying to recover from a particularly violent fist of laughter. Arien quickly left the room before she could make even a better fool of herself.

She had the feeling the whole thing was rather dark. They've got to be called crushes for a reason.

She was not in a hurry to find out why.

"Hey sweetie! You're just in time for a big wizarding chess lesson!" beamed Carl. Apparently he had finished a match with Sarah (with all the interesting things to do with your sweetheart, those two go play chess! Humans!) they tried a couple of games, but her heart wasn't on it.

"Checkmate." He said, for the third time.

"Oh, bugger."

"Language, Arien." That was so typically Carl, Arien couldn't suppress a sneer. Her mood was getting fouler and fouler. He gave an embarrassed grin.

"That time of the month, right? The Don't-mess-with-me-period."

Now what on earth was he talking about? Couldn't it be... but by his violent blush it probably was ... he was talking about the Period? But she didn't have to worry with that for a long time ... she expected to mature enough to pass through that particularly embarrassing situation sometime around sixty, seventy years old ...

...but then again, Ageing Potion.

Oh, lovely. And to make it even better, a guy – for pity sake, a GUY!- had realised it before herself. Just how low would she sink.

"I think I better go talk with Poppy." She said, fleeing the common room. Carl hid his blush by pretending he was fixing his shoelaces, and Sarah chuckled shamelessly.

Well, now she knew how long she had skipped.