There was a sun once.
It lit the whole damn sky.
It kept everything alive.
And there was a man once.
He looked it straight in the eye.
He saw everything.
He went blind.

August 28th 2PM Sunday

The rain fell from the sky in sheets. The dreary weather outside seemed to be reflecting the mood of those inside the Burrow. Draco had been missing for a day now and no one seemed to have any idea what happened to him. Arthur had left for the ministry once again that morning, leaving the rest of the Weasleys, except Fred and George, at the Burrow.

Severus had left shortly after he and I returned from our little trip into muggle London. When I had asked where he was headed, he replied that he was going to check with some "old friends" and see if they had any information regarding Draco's whereabouts. I wanted to go with him but I was told I would be safer at the Burrow. It was sickening being told what I could and couldn't do. Furthermore, being confined to the Burrow is, borrowing a phrase from Ron, bloody boring.

"I'm sick of sitting here," I huffed as I tossed one of my father's old school books onto the floor in front of me, "We should be out looking for Draco." Ron and Hermione looked up at me from their chess game while Ginny just stared at me in shock over the top of the newest issue of Witch Weekly she was reading.

"And what exactly would we do?" Hermione asked somewhat sarcastically, "We have no idea where Draco might be and while the three of us are fully trained in magic, you barely know how to use a wand." Her words offended me for some reason that I couldn't understand.

"How much magic does one need to know?" I asked mockingly, "I'm sure I could do a stunning spell or there's always the killing curse." Ron let out a loud cough and the butterbeer he had been drinking went flying across the chessboard right into Hermione's face.

"Ron!" Hermione yelled as she ran into the kitchen. Ron followed along behind her obediently, muttering apologies as he went. I laughed as I watched them go but stopped when I noticed Ginny staring at me.

"Do you really think you could perform the killing curse?" she asked as our eyes locked.

"Probably," I answered with a wry grin, "I mean it can't be that hard, can it?" She shook her head and went back to reading.

"I wouldn't know," she replied from behind the magazine, "I've never performed the killing curse."

"I wonder if I could," I mumbled as I thought to myself. How hard would it be to say to simple words like Avada Kedavra? I can say Abra Kadabra and that's nearly the same thing.

Hermione returned to the living room looking much drier than before with a very pale Ron trailing behind her. They both sat down on the couch. Hermione was glaring at Ron while he stared down at his feet. I couldn't help but chuckle softly and soon Ginny was doing the same. The mood seemed to lift slightly and I noticed Hermione staring at me.

"Is there something on my face?" I asked as I moved a hand up to wipe my cheeks.

"No," she said quickly, "I was just wondering if I could ask you something."

"Ask away."

"What was your mother like?" she blurted out and then quickly added, "If you want to talk about her that is. I mean, you don't have to, I was just wondering." Hermione blushed brightly while Ron sent me nervous glances. Ginny eyed me curiously over the top of her magazine before folding it and setting it in her lap.

"I don't mind," I replied as I twirled a lock of hair in my fingers, "But there's not much I can say about my mother. I never met her so I only know what my father told me about her."

"What was her name?" Ginny asked with some hesitation.

"Oriel," I replied quickly.

"What a pretty name," Ginny said softly, giving me a sad smile as our eyes met.

"I always thought so," I answered in a whisper.

"Rather odd name though," Hermione mumbled thoughtfully, "Was she born in America?"

"As far as I know," I replied, "My father told me that Oriel is a French name and it means angel of destiny. I always thought he was kidding until I looked it up and found out it was true. He always said that she was the angel that saved him."

"That's so sweet," said Hermione as she wiped tears from her eyes. Ginny was also crying and Ron was rolling his eyes. "What was your mother's maiden name?"

"Pardon?"

"What was your mother's last name before she married Harry?" Ginny explained.

I was confused. For the life of me I couldn't remember a time when my father had ever mentioned my mother's maiden name. Isn't that something children should know? "I don't know," I mumbled.

"You don't know?" Ron asked incredulously.

"It's not like I knew her," I snapped.

"Sorry," Ron mumbled.

"He didn't mean anything by it Jenny," Hermione broke in, "He can just be incredibly insensitive sometimes."

"No," I said sternly, "he's right. It's something I should know. Shouldn't I?" I gave Hermione a pleading look and she smiled at me warmly.

"It's okay Jenny. It's just a bit odd," she explained.

"I suppose it is," I replied, "You have to understand that to me, my mother was nothing more than a fictional character." They stared at me like I'd grown a second head and I knew that it was going to be hard to make them understand.

"I don't mean it the way you think," I explained, "I love my mother even though I never met her. But the fact remains that I never actually did meet her and all I know about her comes from the stories my father told me. She's like a phantom in my life. I know she was there but I don't really know anything about her." Hermione and Ginny nodded their head in understanding but Ron still appeared to be confused.

"She was a beautiful woman though. I have a picture of her but I suppose you've already seen that."

"We didn't really get a good look at it. Do you think we could see it again?" Ginny asked hopefully. I nodded and reached into my backpack to pull out my new photo album. I flipped to the second page and passed it to Hermione and Ron. Ginny got up from her chair to peer over Hermione's shoulder.

It was easy to see, even in the tattered old photo of my mother and father, that Oriel Elita Riddle was a beautiful woman. Dark brown hair fell to her shoulders and framed her face perfectly. Her cheekbones were high and pronounced giving her a very aristocratic look. Red graced her cheeks and her bright blue eyes twinkled happily as she smiled at my father. My father appeared to be emotionally torn between nervousness and happiness as he smiled down at her.

"You look a lot like her," Ginny commented as she took the album from Hermione so she could study it further. Hermione and Ron nodded in agreement.

"My father always said that to," I replied.

"Except for your hair and your eyes," Ron commented, "that's definitely all Harry." Ginny handed the album back to me and I placed it carefully back into my bag.

"I'd like to ask all of you a question," I said nonchalantly. Hermione and Ginny shifted nervously while Ron excused himself and headed toward the bathroom. Hermione glared at his retreating form. "Do you think," I began, "I was wondering…do you think Harry Potter would've liked me?"

Ginny and Hermione gave each other a puzzled look before Ginny asked, "What exactly do you mean? I'm sure your father loved you."

"That's not what I mean," I said with a sigh. I laid down on the floor and stared up at the ceiling. "I want to know if you think that the Harry Potter you knew would've liked me, Jenny Riddle." Ginny was still confused but Hermione's face lit up in comprehension.

"It's not that you don't know your father loved you, is it?" asked Hermione, "You want to know if Harry Potter would have liked you."

"I see," Ginny said softly as she thought to herself, "I think Harry would have liked you Jenny. I mean, we all like you and we hardly know you." Hermione nodded her head in agreement.

"Gin's right," Ron's voice interrupted as he walked into the living room to stare down at me, "You and Harry would've been friends, I'm sure of it."

"I wouldn't be certain of that Mr. Weasley," a voice called out from the fireplace, "Jenny has a rather nasty Slytherin side." Everyone looked up in surprise. I jumped up off the floor and turned to see Severus Snape's floating green head staring back at me.

"From what I hear," I said as I fought to catch my breath, "Harry Potter had his own Slytherin side." Severus raised an eyebrow but didn't respond.

"Is there any news on Draco?" Ginny asked from behind me and I suddenly felt guilty because I didn't ask about Draco first. Severus shook his head in reply.

"Then what's up?" I asked and Severus rolled his eyes at my crude American slang.

"I will pick you up from the Burrow tomorrow at eight. Do not make me wait," he added threateningly and then his head disappeared.

"Boy," I snorted, "he's sure Mr. Personality isn't he. No wonder he has so many friends." Ron began to laugh but Hermione cut him off with a quick smack to the head.

"What was that for?" he asked angrily.

"That's for being insensitive," she snapped, "You know Draco is his only friend. How would you feel if you lost your only friend?"

"Didn't think about that," he replied as he rubbed the back of his head. Ginny went back to reading her magazine as Ron and Hermione began to argue.

"Dad….Lucas," I whispered quietly to myself as I stared into the fireplace.

"Did you say something?" she asked. I just shook my head in reply and sat down on the floor, pulling my knees to my chest. My jaw was clenched tight as I held back my tears. I wanted to tell them. I wanted to say it. I wanted to scream at them. I know what it's like to lose your only friends.

I'm so afraid of being alone.

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SOME NOTES FROM THE AUTHOR

I know I don't usually write any author notes but this is a short chapter so I thought I'd make some comments.

1. Is Harry alive or dead?
A: It depends what your definition of "is" is. Just kidding. Seriously though, I can't answer this question. Keep reading and you'll find out.

2. Don't make assumptions about any romance in this story. A few people have complained about having a possible Jenny/Severus ship because he's so much older than her. I say "BAH!" to you. If Jenny and Severus end up looking to each other for some much needed comfort then I say more power to them. Wizards and witches live a long time. Jenny's got plenty of time to find her perfect man.

3. Don't make assumptions about Dumbledore. In so many stories Dumbledore is portrayed as being either a horrible bastard or a wonderfully supportive mentor. I'm hoping to show a more human and realistic Dumbledore.

4. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed my story. Your encouraging words are like a phoenix song to my heart.

I WILL SAY THAT I'M PLANNING ON WRITING A PREQUEL TO THIS STORY.

DISCLAIMER: I, OF COURSE, DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE HARRY POTTER CHARACTERS AND THE WORLD OF HARRY POTTER DOES NOT BELONG TO ME.