Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing: no characters, plots, scenes, etc. J.K. Rowling rules over me. All I have is one itty bitty character and my plot.

Chapter One

Brynn paced the room of her office, changing her look at every about-face. Should I start with Aesop or Richard Scarry? POP! Dorothy Parker's vision of a big blonde appeared. How much knowledge do they have? POP! A distinguished woman dressed all in black down to her black framed glasses and black hair. Why did I come back?! POP! She changed back into herself: she was a woman of average height, probably around five feet six inches tall. Her long chestnut colored hair was pulled into a loose ponytail at the back of her neck, and it cascaded down to the end of her shoulder blades.

That last thought wrecked her; she fell to the floor and began crying. To her, it felt like yesterday. She couldn't stop the nagging feeling that if she had been there, he wouldn't have gone. Dumbledore had assured her that she was wrong in this presumption: after all, "Just how many Death Eaters did you think there were? Two?" he sniffed at her when she said this to him.

"I just....." she had begun, and then trailed off.

"There was nothing you could do, Brynn. You know what the veil means. Never. Never again." He was tired, she could tell. However, she couldn't blame him. Dumbledore had taken the worst beating of his life last term when the Ministry refused to believe that Voldemort had returned. "And besides, Brynn," he continued, drawing her from her reverie, "did you honestly--honestly—think that you two could have been together much longer? He would have been found out, I'm sure of it. He was too much of a risk- taker, and you knew that, too. Not even an Auror as great as you could have saved him against all the Death Eaters present...and especially Voldemort himself."

She knew this was true, but the finality of it had hit her again. As she pulled herself from the floor, she brushed off her corduroy chinos and white blouse. This year was a new year, she knew, and by most rights was entitled to be a better year. Yes, Voldemort was back. She chuckled to herself at the way she dismissed this as a small inconvenience.

Brynn had always thought of herself as the best new Auror there was. Well, everyone admired the way she and Tonks changed themselves with a small pop during dinner. Ouch, she said. Don't think of the Order right now. But changing by merely thinking of change wasn't what made her great. Some wizards had even told her that she rivaled Mad-Eye...and even she had never thought of herself as that great. Granted, she did have a knack for catching dark wizards, but to be on the same level as Moody...she chuckled. She hoped they were comparing her skills and not her personality.

Right now, however, Brynn just wished she could turn off her brain. The thoughts and memories never ceased to amaze her. She found notes, scrawlings, photos—and seeing them made her break down emotionally and physically. This year was supposed to be better for her, and moreover, she wanted to focus this year on her studies and her cousin, Neville, who was a sixth-year student.

The feast began in two hours, and she was excited, yet extremely hesitant, to see Neville and the rest of the students who had been at the Ministry that terrible night. The storage closet door unbolted with a swish of her wand, and she retrieved books she would use in tomorrow's lesson. Brynn taught Muggle Literature, which was a class many took to "catch up on a bit of sleep" or to tuck in to a mid-class snack. Some children had even brought in a feast, including roast beef, shepherd's pies, and mutton. They had been disciplined, of course, but still...

Sirius, she sighed, placing books on desks, How can I do this without you?