But I know I've got to live my life
And roll around on the ground and feel the strife
And realize along the way that I'm nothing more
Than a grain of salt in the salt of the earth
And everything is grace

September 12th 8:15AM

The woman held me close as I sobbed silently against her shoulder. Her embrace was like none I had ever felt before. It was warm and comforting. She held me to her like a mother would hold her child.

"Come with me," she whispered softly into my ear, "and I will keep you safe."

I held her hand as she led me through the forest. After a few minutes of walking we came to an abrupt stop in the middle of a large clearing. I looked down and noticed a stone path materializing under our feet.

"We will follow this path," she stated as she dropped my hand and I followed behind her.

Stones appeared under her feet with each step she took. I glanced back to see the path disappearing behind us and the forest disappearing into thin air. In the distance a large mansion suddenly came into view.

"What is this place?" I asked as we neared the building. It was a huge place made of brick and stone. The windows were all dark and it seemed quite foreboding.

"It is a place created from your father's mind," she explained as we came to a stop in front of the mansion's large front door. "Everything here," she continued as she made a sweeping motion with one arm, "is created from your father's hopes, dreams and… memories." She gave me a pointed look before opening the door and motioning for me to follow her inside.

The inside of the mansion was completely empty. There were no rooms, staircases or furniture. It reminded me of an empty warehouse or a house that was in the process of being built.

"There's nothing here," I said, stating the obvious.

"I know," the woman stated sadly as she turned around to look down at me. "It used to be quite beautiful," she said wistfully, "it was filled with wonderful furnishings, many rooms and breathtaking paintings."

"What happened to it all?" I asked curiously.

She held her hand out to me once again and I took it hesitantly. I was led to through the empty building and the woman stopped in front of the wall at the far right. I followed her gaze and gasped in surprise as my eyes came to rest on a small painting of a woman with long brown hair and bright blue eyes.

"My mother," I stated softly as I brought a hand up to touch the painting.

"Yes," the woman next to me said disdainfully, "the only thing that remains here is this painting of your mother." I turned around quickly and studied the woman for a moment.

"You didn't like my mother, did you?" I asked and she shook her head.

"I never knew your mother," she admitted, "so I cannot have any feelings toward her, bad or good. But she did cause a great bit of trouble."

"What did she do?"

"I do not know everything that happened," the woman replied in a cold voice, "There are things which your father keeps hidden away even from me. The only thing I do know is that Oriel was one of the reasons your father left me."

"What should I call you?" I asked abruptly, "I feel strange calling you Hogwarts since you appear to be a person and all." The woman nodded in understanding and there was silence for a moment as she considered my question.

"You may call me Abra," she replied.

"Why Abra?"

"It means the mother of many," she explained simply, "and I am a mother to many."

"Why?" I asked softly and Abra stared back at me with a look of confusion that quickly transformed into comprehension.

"You wish to know why I bonded with your father," she stated and I nodded in reply. "Your eyes reveal your emotions," she continued, "just as your father's eyes have always betrayed his own."

"Your father needed me. He would have died without me and I needed him or I would die," she explained.

"But why can't you let him die?" I asked angrily, "Why can't you let him rest? And if you cared so much for him then why did you let him be used the way he was?"

A small hand swung down and connected with my cheek. I reached up to cover the bruised skin as a smacking noise echoed through the mansion. I stared at her in surprise as she glared at me in return.

"Do not speak of things that you know nothing about," she sneered coldly, all traces of previous warmth gone.

"I would have kept him here forever," she bellowed and I staggered as the floor shook underneath us, "He would have been safe, he would have been protected but he begged me to let him go. He pleaded with me to release him so that he could martyr himself for a world that could never love him the way I do, a world that would never give him the happiness that I can."

"I let him go," she stated as she paced back and forth in front of me. Suddenly the mansion disappeared around us and I found myself standing in front of Hogwarts, Abra still pacing wildly. "I let him go," she continued, "as long as he promised to return and he always did. He returned every time he died and every time he returned I offered him sanctuary. When it was all over, he told me, when it was all over he would return and he would stay with me but then that woman showed up and he left."

She turned and ascended the steps to the castle quickly. I rushed to keep up with her as she walked through the empty halls of Hogwarts, continuing to loudly lament over the past. We continued up a long, winding staircase to a wooden door. Without pause Abra opened the door and stepped inside. I followed behind her and nearly ran into her as she stopped in the middle of the tower. I peered around her and my jaw fell open in shock.

At one of the windows sat a young, teenage boy with black messy hair. He face was turned away from us and he was staring off toward the lake. A black cloak hung loosely off his shoulders and his knees were pulled up to his chin, exposing his worn and dirty sneakers.

"Is that who I think it is?" I asked in a soft voice so I wouldn't startle the boy. Abra nodded and slowly walked to stand behind the teenager. I followed her and the boy didn't seem to acknowledge our presence.

"It is your father," she stated as she looked down at him sadly. "This is only a memory, one of the many that we share."

"But why…" I began to ask her why she had brought me there but she pressed a finger to my lips as the teenage version of my father began to speak.

"I promise," he said quietly, "that I'll never let anything happen to my home." He ran one hand over the wall next to him and I could see tears beginning to form in Abra's eyes.

A moment later my father stood up and pulled a shimmering piece of cloth out of one of his pockets. As he pulled the cloth out, I could see that it was some type of cloak. He pulled the cloak around him and disappeared right in front of my eyes. His steps echoed through the tower as he walked past us. The door to the tower seemed to open on its own and then there was only silence.

"He made that promise his last night as a student at Hogwarts," Abra explained as she sat down on the ledge that my father had previously occupied. "His godfather had just been killed," she continued, "and he was feeling a misery beyond anything I'd ever known before. When he said those words my heart went out to him more then it had ever gone out to any of my children." I sat down next to her and gazed out across the grounds.

"I have existed for years with only one purpose. That purpose was to protect the students who resided within my walls. But every living being needs companionship and I was no exception."

"But there are hundreds of students here every year," I stated in confusion, "how can you possibly get lonely with so many people around?"

"I am only a school to them," she explained sadly and suddenly the room seemed to shift around us and I fell to the ground as the ledge underneath me disappeared. Abra chuckled softly as she helped me up from the floor.

I looked around in amazement. We seemed to be standing in the middle of the Great Hall and it was full of students eating and happily chatting to one another. I glanced up at the staff table to see Dumbledore speaking to Professor McGonagall. The rest of the staff table was full of teachers, some I recognized and some I didn't.

I smiled and waved at Severus as he seemed to be scowling in my direction. When he didn't acknowledge me I turned to Abra with a puzzled expression on my face.

"They cannot see you," she explained, "It is just another memory." I nodded in understanding as I followed Severus' gaze to see what or who had made him so angry.

It was my father once again. He was sitting at the table next to me slowly pushing food around on his plate. Next to him sat a redheaded boy who I assumed was Ron Weasley and across from Ron was Hermione. Hermione's nose was buried in a book as Ron and my father talked about classes and Quidditch. Once in awhile my father's eyes would light up and he would laugh happily at something Ron would say. The sound of his laughter washed over me like warm water and I couldn't help but smile.

"He looks so happy," I stated and Abra nodded in reply. "I've never seen him so happy and he's even laughing," I said in disbelief.

"Harry had many happy times here," she stated as her eyes swept over the children, "as did many of my children."

"So why my father then?" I asked coolly, "Why not one of these other children?" She thought about my question for a moment and the sounds of the students eating and talking disappeared. No one seemed to notice as the children continued raising forks full of food, their mouths moving silently as they continued their conversations.

"This is a little creepy," I stated as I turned toward Abra.

"You asked me why I choose your father," she said, ignoring my comment, "I choose your father because he choose me."

"To all of these other children," she began, motioning toward the students around her, "I am only a school. I am a place where they return each year until they need not return again. Even the teachers ignore me for the most part and the headmasters have done the same."

"I talk to the headmasters of course," she explained, "It is important that we communicate so that the students will be safe but besides that I rarely speak to them and they have never spoken to me."

"There is one exception and that would be Headmaster Dumbledore. He understood me better then any other headmaster and he has always treated me as an equal, almost like a person would treat a friend. Our relationship was created through mutual interest though which is not the same as a real friendship."

"Harry Potter," she continued as she gazed at my father longingly, "recognized me as his home. He loved me and wished to protect me. Of course he also cared about the students and the teachers but he cared about the castle itself as well. His promise made me realize how much I cared for him in return."

"But if you cared about him so much," I interrupted, "why did you choose a life of misery for him? He'll never be able to die because of you. Why would you wish such a life for anyone? All he ever wanted was a normal life."

"And what of my wants?" she snapped angrily. "What of my needs? Every year my children leave me, some of them return the next year and some leave to never return again. They leave and never give me another thought even after protecting them and caring for them for seven long years. Even the teachers treat me as if I am only stone and wood."

"Am I to be doomed for what I am," she wailed loudly and the Great Hall disappeared around us until we were standing in only darkness. "Am I to be punished for eternity simply because I was created?"

My heart went out to the woman as she fell to her knees. I hesitantly crossed over the void between us and pulled her to me until her head rested against my chest. Her arms wrapped around my waist tightly as I gently petted the back of her head. After a few minutes her tears subsided and she pulled away from me. She cocked her head to the side as if she was listening to something far away.

"It seems the Ministry has finally arrived," she stated with a soft chuckle, "and they are having a little bit of trouble in their attempts to apprehend your army."

"O no!" I gasped, "I have to get back." Abra shook her head calmly.

"There is no need to leave so soon," she explained, "The Brotherhood is following your orders and no one has been killed. Although you cannot stay too long or I fear there will be casualties." She took in my worried expression and added, "Do not fear anything within my walls. Even though I cannot afford you the same protections I have given your father, I can promise you that no harm will come to you while you are with me."

"Do you mean with you?" I asked in confusion, "Or do you mean here at Hogwarts?"

"Jenny," she laughed, "I told you already, I am Hogwarts."

"So where is my father?" I asked hesitantly and in an instant the darkness disappeared and we were standing in front of Hogwarts once more.

"Your father," she stated slowly, "is resting at the moment."

"Do you know why he killed himself?" I asked and I was surprised when her expression changed to one of bemusement.

"Are you so sure he killed himself?" she asked.

"Of course," I replied softly, "I found him." Abra nodded her head and walked toward the lake. She sat down at the shore gracefully and I sat down next to her.

"There are some in this world who wish for your father's death," she stated, "and my own."

"So you think someone killed him and made it look like suicide?" I asked incredulously and Abra shook her head.

"I'm not sure," she replied, "but I do know there is a person out there who might wish desperately for your father's death. When Dumbledore brought Harry's body back to me I noticed another bond."

"The bond is not like the one that Harry and I share although it does seem as if Harry used our bond as a model. But the bond Harry shares with this other person is not a bond of magic but merely a bond of life."

"But why would this person want my father dead?" I asked in confusion, "If they have a bond of life wouldn't that mean that if my father died then this other person would die too?"

"Yes," she replied with a nod, "which is what scares me. If Harry bonded someone too him against their will then someone out there may be wishing to die but cannot. Perhaps they are troubled by their past or are in a great deal of pain and now they wish for death."

"I can't imagine wishing for death," I stated softly.

"Can't you?" Abra asked coolly, "Your father wished for it many times."

I reached down and picked up a small stone. I threw it into the water and watched it land with a small plop. Ripples formed and stretched out around the spot where the rock had pierced the glassy surface.

"Do you know who this other person is?"

"No," she admitted, "but I can tell you that it is not a witch or wizard. The bond was definitely put in place by your father and it is his magic which is sustaining it."

"So it couldn't be Voldemort then," I added thoughtfully and Abra nodded in reply.

"I sense no magic at the other end of the connection," she explained, "so it must be a muggle." We sat in silence for awhile longer before Abra stood and brushed the dirt from her dress.

"Let me show you something," she said as she reached out for my hand. I grabbed onto it and she pulled me up from the ground.

"What is it?" I asked suspiciously. Abra turned away from me and began to walk toward the Forbidden Forest.

"Just a memory," she said softly as I came up to walk next to her, "It is a memory I think you will be quite interested in."

"Now you've got me worried," I admitted and Abra chuckled softly.

"Harry has blocked many of his memories from the time he spent away from me," she explained, "but there are a few memories which he allows me to see." The Forbidden Forest disappeared around us and I found myself standing in the middle of a small room.

As I looked around I could tell that the room was a nursery. A small wooden crib sat in one corner while a changing table and dresser sat in another. In the middle of the room was a rocking chair which a woman was sitting in while she softly sang to the baby in her arms.

We were standing behind the woman so I couldn't see her face but I could see the baby she was holding. The tiny babe was wrapped in a soft blue blanket, a small tuft of brown hair on top of his head. His eyes slowly opened and it seemed for a moment as if he could see me.

"His eyes…" I began as I noticed their color.

"Beautiful aren't they?" Abra asked and I nodded as I stared into the small violet orbs.

"Who is he?" I asked curiously even though part of me already knew the answer.

"Jenny Lillian Riddle," Abra said with a smile, "I'd like you to meet your brother, Thomas Gautier Riddle."