It's been so long since I've stood on my two feet
I'd really rather lay here and pretend
But people like you and me never get that peace
It comes from denying that everything is so screwed up
It's so screwed up

August 21st Sunday 10AM

After another hearty breakfast provided most graciously by Molly Weasley, Severus had left the Burrow once more for parts unknown. Even though it was Sunday, Arthur said something about more work to do at the Ministry and Molly pushed us all outside to take advantage of the beautiful weather while she did her usual Sunday cleaning. That's how I found myself standing in the Weasley's backyard with Draco, Ginny, Ron, Fred and George all gathered around me while Hermione sat under a tree near the Burrow reading a book and occasionally shouting "I don't think this is a good idea," to the group.

The reason that Hermione was so nervous could be summed up in one word, Firebolt. A Firebolt that just happened to be laying on the ground next me. I stood in the middle of the group eyeing the broom warily while the others tried to give me pointers and advice for my first ride.

"Are you sure you don't want to try on one of our old Comet's first?" Ginny asked for the tenth time and everyone glanced at me with hopeful expressions on their faces. I shook my head furiously. If I was going to do this, I was going to do it now and my first flight was going to be on my father's Firebolt and only my father's Firebolt.

"I have to agree," Draco drawled, "The Firebolt might be an older broom now but it's still one of the fastest and it hasn't been used for years, it might act up."

"No," I said firmly, "Let's get started before I lose my nerve." Everyone in the group glanced at each other nervously. "Just tell me what to do first, please." My voice cracked slightly at the end of my last statement and a slight feeling of anxiety was beginning to bubble up in my stomach, but I quickly pushed it back down.

"Okay," Ron replied, "The first thing you need to do is put your hand out and command the broom up to your hand."

"What do you mean command the broom up..." my question was cut off as the Firebolt leapt horizontally up from its place on the ground and smacked firmly into my hand. I unconsciously tightened my grip immediately and couldn't help being amazed as the broom shook and jumped slightly in my hand. It was almost as if the Firebolt was an animal just itching to get away.

"Well, that was fast," Fred stated. George grinned and added, "She's got Potter blood in her, what do you expect."

"I still don't think this is a good idea!" Hermione called out again as she looked up from her book. There was a collective groan from everyone in the circle. Ron turned toward her to tell her that she wasn't helping morale and when he turned back I had already mounted the broom.

"Okay," he said slowly and calmly, "push off the ground hard and then hover slightly, then touch back down." Fred and George began laughing with Ginny and Draco soon following.

"What's so funny?" I asked, a little afraid that they were laughing at my inexperience.

"We're going to have to start calling Ronnie-kins Madam Hooch," Fred said.

"He does look a bit like her," Draco added, which caused another round of laughter. I was getting a little impatient so I decided to do what Ron had instructed while everyone was busy laughing and Ron was busy yelling at them all. I pushed off the ground and held my breath for a moment as the broom hovered off the ground and my feet left the earth.

The directions Ron had given me were to push off from the ground hard and then do something else. I think it was something about hovering and then touching back down. Whatever the directions were, I'm sure they didn't involve me zooming off into the sky while everyone stood there with their jaws hanging open, but for some reason that's exactly what happened.

In all honesty I had tried to lower myself back to the ground but the Firebolt didn't seem to want to cooperate and it did its best to tell me so by barely letting me have any control. I couldn't be mad at the broom though, I was having the time of my life. There was nothing as freeing as the feel of flying with nothing but a small stick of wood between you and the ground.

I barely registered the voices shouting at me from behind and I glanced over my shoulder slightly to see that everyone had taken flight on their own brooms to go chasing after me. They started to get closer and closer and I tried to slow the Firebolt down but once again it seemed that it was thinking for itself and I continued to go barreling through the clouds. It's a good thing there were clouds or some innocent muggle might have gotten a very big shock.

Flying was fun but after what seemed like hours my body was getting quite sore and I hoped that the broom would finally decide to stop, or that one of the people behind me would figure out a solution to the disastrous situation. I tried to make out landmarks as the ground went whipping by below me but I couldn't make out anything besides blurs of brown and green.

The broom began to slow and I sighed in relief but a moment later it began to lower and I held on to the Firebolt's handle nervously. I glanced behind me once again and could see no one which caused me to tense up once more. I was so busy looking for Draco or the Weasleys that I didn't see the large house that was swiftly drawing closer and closer. Then suddenly, with a loud crash, I went flying through a window and landed in a heap on someone's bedroom floor.

I stood up quickly and brushed the broken glass from my clothing and hair the best I could. The Firebolt appeared to still be in working order, a little banged up, but nothing that couldn't be fixed. I took a moment to look around the room and immediately wrinkled my nose in disgust. The bedroom was very dusty and dirty, the sheets on the bed appeared to be almost moldy and there were spider webs hanging down everywhere. I figured that I must've landed in an abandoned home.

I grabbed the Firebolt off the floor and decided that it would probably be better if I left through the front door rather then the window just in case anyone had seen my crash landing. I headed down a long hallway and after awhile I came across an old wooden staircase. As I neared the bottom of the staircase I spied the front door and nearly ran the rest of the way down. I stopped on the bottom step though when I saw something odd.

On the wall directly across from the stairs were two long, black curtains pulled tightly together. Around the top of the curtains I could see what looked like the top of a wooden picture frame sticking out.

"That's odd," I said to the empty house, "why would someone cover a picture with curtains?" I slowly reached a hand up to open the curtains when I heard a muffled voice calling out from somewhere.

"Hello?" I called back and then stood silently as I waited for a reply. When none came I went back to opening the curtains.

"FILTHY BLOOD TRAITORS!" a voice shrieked and I quickly covered my ears as the onslaught continued, "YOU WILL PAY FOR SOILING THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS!" The voice just kept on shrieking and I looked up to see an ugly old hag of a woman screaming at me from the picture that was hidden behind the curtains.

My ears burned while I struggled to close the curtains once again. The voice became quieter and quieter until finally it became nothing but muffled grunts and groans. I sighed in relief, picked up the Firebolt once again and continued my original trek towards the front door to escape the awful house.

As my hand reached out to grasp the doorknob the door suddenly swung open and I scrambled backward in shock. An older man with light brown eyes and dirty gray hair stepped into the room, took one look at me and lunged. He was on top of me within minutes and I gasped for breath as my lungs were crushed under his weight.

"Who are you?" he hissed and then pulled a wand from inside his coat. He held the tip to my throat and eyed me maliciously.

"Please..." I stuttered, "can't...breathe..." He eyed me for a moment longer before swiftly standing up with his wand still trained on me. I took a much needed breath of air and laid there for a moment with my eyes closed as I tried to will the dizzy feeling out of my head.

When I opened my eyes I got my first good look at the man. He definitely appeared to be sixty or more. He wore tattered muggle clothing but I knew by his wand that he was definitely a wizard. My eyes trailed up his body and then stopped on his face. Something about him looked very familiar.

"Do I know you?" I asked nervously. He shook his head.

"I doubt it," he replied with his wand still pointed at me, "What are you doing in my home?"

"I was flying and my broom got away from me," I answered as I pointed at the Firebolt that was lying near the door, "I crashed through one of your windows upstairs and I was just going to leave when you came in. I'm really sorry," I added.

His demeanor seemed to relax a little then and he reached down with one hand to help me up. I brushed off my clothes and he stared at me for a moment.

"Are you hurt?" he asked in a concerned tone. I shook my head and began edging my way towards the door.

"No," I replied, "but my friends are probably looking for me so I should get going." I went to pick the broom up off the floor and he quickly grabbed it out of my hand. A flush came to his features as he stared at the broom.

"Where did you get this?" he growled.

"What?"

"Where did you get this?!" he growled. Suddenly it hit me how much this man sounded like a dog growling...or maybe a wolf.

"Remus Lupin!" I exclaimed and he was so shocked that he dropped the broom. "That's where I know you from. You're Remus Lupin!" He stared at me for a moment longer before stalking toward me until my back was up against the wall.

"Who are you?" he asked angrily.

"Jenny Riddle," I replied with an anxious smile, "pleasure to meet you."

"I don't know any Jenny Riddle," he said with a sneer, "But I did know Harry Potter and I want to know how the hell you got his broom." His wand was trained on me once again and I glanced around the room furtively for a means of escape. I desperately wanted to explain everything to Remus but at the same time I was scared that he would not believe me.

"Well, you see," I began, "the thing about that is..." I was interrupted as the front door swung open with a bang and Draco, Ginny, Ron, Fred and George all raced into the room.

"Remus!" Ron yelled as they all turned to stare at Remus and me, "Let her go Remus!" Remus gave me a harsh look one more time before backing away. Draco rushed to my side immediately.

"Are you okay Jenny?" Draco asked as he looked me over, "I'm so, so sorry. I should've never let you use that broom for your first fly. Merlin, when Sev finds out about this," he added as he dropped his head in defeat. The Weasleys were all eyeing me anxiously as if I had come close to death and Remus was just staring at Draco like he'd grown a second head.

"You gave her Harry's broom?" he asked disbelievingly, "What were you thinking? Why would you let her ride Harry's broom?" They all started arguing and I drifted off into my own thoughts.

"Why would Harry's broom bring me here?" I whispered to myself. Everyone seemed to hear me though and they all turned to stare at me at the same time.

"What do you mean?" asked Ron.

"The Firebolt," I explained, "it brought me here. I had no control over it whatsoever." They all seemed to think about it for a moment before a Draco's eyes lit up in understanding.

"It brought you here because this was Black's home," he answered, "I bet you anything that's why you lost control over it and ended up here. Maybe the broom was spelled to return back here."

"Buy why?" Remus asked and everyone stared at Draco expectantly. He seemed to think for a moment.

"Because of the Fidelius Charm," he explained, "Remember Remus, after seventh year the secret keeper was changed on this place." A light bulb seemed to switch on above Remus and his eyes widened in surprise.

"I remember now," Remus answered, "Harry never returned here after fifth year and then we changed the secret keeper after he was seventeen. He never asked to be given the location again and I remember asking him what he would do if he ever wanted to come back but he just told me not to worry. Why that cheeky little brat."

"What?" I asked, "I don't get it." I looked to Draco and waited for him to answer.

"Well obviously," he drawled, "he must have spelled his broom to take him back to this location the next time he used it. The Fidelius Charm makes this place invisible unless the secret keeper tells you where it is, so if the new secret keeper didn't tell Harry where the place was then he would never be able to find it again even though he'd been here before."

"So he spelled the broom to come back to this place specifically. He was always pretty powerful and I'm sure he'd have no trouble making a magical connection between the broom and this dump. That must've also been why he never used the Firebolt again after fifth year." Everyone eyed the broom nervously and I walked over and carefully picked it up. Remus growled softly under his breath.

"That still doesn't explain why you gave the broom to her," Remus hissed and then added, "and it doesn't explain why the broom brought her here. If Harry spelled the broom to bring him here then it should've only brought him here. He would've never spelled it to bring just anyone here, that would've been too dangerous." The Weasleys shuffled their feet and stared down at the floor. Draco on the other hand, confidently walked over, grabbed my arm and pulled me to stand directly in front of Remus.

"Remus," he said with an air of superiority, "I'd like you to meet Jenny Riddle." I held out my hand and Remus shook it hesitantly.

"She already introduced herself Draco and that still doesn't expl..." Remus said but Draco cut him off by holding up a hand.

"Also known as," he said and then paused for dramatic effect, "Jenny Potter." Remus looked to me and I gave him a nod, he looked at the Weasleys and they all nodded at him as well and then he looked at Draco, who now had an overly smug grin on his face.

"But who...how...I don't understand," Remus said in confusion.

"Harry Potter," I stated softly, "was my father." Remus' grip on my hand became slack, his eyes rolled back into his head and he landed with a thud on the floor of the living room at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place.