Chapter One

Aftermath and Losses

Harry woke with a start, and again he felt as if his forehead had been ripped open. His breath was heavy and he was covered in small beads of sweat. He coughed, and his throat seemed to rip as he did. He had had the dream again, the one with Sirius…only this time something was different; something had changed. Not only were Hermione, Ron and the others there, but now there was a new girl. She was so pretty, he thought, but, in his dream, she gave her life to save him and the others.

Harry Potter was a sixteen-year-old, bespectacled, wizard living with his muggle aunt, uncle, and cousin, the Dursleys. He was skinny, but had grown strong from years of Quidditch. He had messy, jet black hair, and the brightest green eyes. He wore loose fitting jeans, and a baggy T-shirt, and his shoes were so old that the sole was starting to peel off.

The dusk had just turned to dawn, and Harry yawned, looking intently around his room. He hated being here, and away from his friends. Some days, he just wanted to run away, run away and never look back. Sometimes when he dreamed, he dreamed he and the girl in his last dream were running away. Run away from their problems and grief, and away from their family and friends. It was as if he couldn't take it anymore, and he had to admit, sometimes he couldn't deal with the guilt, with the pain, with the memories…

Lately he had become custom to hearing his Uncle wake him as he called the family for breakfast, but today, no one woke him or called. Maybe they think I died in my sleep, he thought, but that would be a miracle. He reluctantly got out of his bed, feeling the sun on his back. He slowly made his bed, got dressed, and opened the window to let Hedwig, his snow white owl, in from her hunt.

The owl quickly flew in, sat on Harry's small table stand, and began picking at a letter attached to her leg. "Gimme that!" Harry exclaimed and gently took the letter from the owl. He sat down on the foot of the bed and began to open it, only to have Hedwig hoot in protest. "Here," he said as he chucked her a small treat. The owl hooted in pleasure and retreated onto the bookcase. Harry set the letters on the bed, stood up, and walked to the dimly lit kitchen.

He quickly grabbed a piece of toast, ran back into the room, and sat on the bed. He gulped down the dry bread and grabbed for the letter. He smiled, knowing they were from his friends. Harry quickly opened the small letter only to realize that there were three letters.

He anxiously opened the first one, from Hermione, and read

Dear Harry,

Oh! It's been so long, hasn't it? Oh, Ron and I can't wait to see you again!

And, guess what! There's a new girl here! Her name is Rouge and she'll be going to Hogwarts with us! And guess what else! She' sin sixth year, like us! Oh, Harry! She's going to be a HUGE help in the war against…well you-know-who! She's such a powerful witch! Her mother has taught her all she knows! This is great!

(She even knows a bit of black magic!) Oh, Harry! I'm so glad to have her on our side!

Anyway, she's so quiet…and Mrs. Weasley said that…You-Know-Who did something before the end of term…But, oh Harry, you'll just love her! She's so nice and so smart!

Oh, we can't wait to see you! Even Rouge! We told her all about you and she'll be thrilled to finally meet you! See you in a few days!

Love,

Hermione

Harry smiled; it was so good to hear from Hermione. And she had even said that he would be seeing them soon…but he did wonder about this new girl. What had Voldermort done to her? He then opened the small package Hermione had sent him for his birthday. It was a book about Reaches…but why, he wondered, would he need this? Then it hit him; maybe the new girl was a little different…or maybe they just had to learn about Reaches. He pondered this new girl, Rouge, as he ripped open Ron's letter, revealing a picture of Ron, Hermione, and himself, and a letter. He began to read, as he cracked up in laughter…

Dear Harry,

SAVE ME! I've been cooped up with Rouge and Hermione all summer. Rouge's really

cute Harry! Wait till you see her…and you can have her! It's not that she's not great and all that…but a lot has happened with Hermione and I...well Rouge should be able to fill you in. (wink, wink) Anyway, mum says you'll becoming this weekend! This means we have a whole two months to hang out! I can't wait! Hope you like your gift…

Ronald

Though Ron's letter was short, it made Harry laugh. He couldn't wait for that weekend, when he would see his friends and meet the new girl. He had waited all summer to see them Ron and Hermione again, waited through his dreams. He wanted to see them horribly…and yet he didn't want to go back to Grimmluad Place. It reminded him so much of Sirius…just thinking about it made him remember the look on his godfather's wasted, once handsome face as he fell…as he died…

Ripping these thoughts from his head, Harry looked at the picture. He remembered it from when Gryffindor had one the Qudditch Cup last year. Ron was on a few team members' shoulders and Harry and Hermione were standing on either side of him. Harry remembered being so happy for Ron, but also worried because he knew that he and Hermione had to break the news about Grawp somehow. A large smile spread across his face as he realized that this was his present from Ron.

The sun had fully risen now, and Harry could hear his Uncle and Aunt coming down the stairs. He held his breath, listening, and to see if they would 'wake him'. He could hear their footsteps coming closer, almost to his bedroom door by now…quickly, he dove under his bed sheets, taking the last letter under with him. He heard a knock and became motionless and soundless.

"Wake up, boy!" came his uncle's voice.

Harry quickly dug into his back pocket, and pulled out his wand.

"Lumos," he muttered, and where he was, under the sheets, suddenly became bright. He pulled the letter in front of him and opened it...

"Boy! I'm not going to say it again! Now get up!"

"Alright!" Harry yelled, yanking off the sheets, throwing the letter onto his bed-stand, opening his door, and walking into the kitchen.

"What do you want?" he asked his uncle, as he walked over to the stove.

"I think I want bacon today," said his uncle.

"Maybe I should burn it to a crisp," Harry whispered to himself.

"What was that?"

"Oh, nothing…three days and I'm out of here…"

He started on the bacon, and then the eggs. He dashed to pour the juice, and then served the breakfast to his aunt, uncle, and cousin. He then dashed back to his room and sat on his bed. It was already 10:00am, and he wanted to leave the house by sundown. He sighed and grabbed the letter, opening it with his fingers. He didn't recognize the handwriting, but he longed for human contact. He ran his fingers through his hair and gazed at the letter, skimming it, but not reading it.

It could be a trick, he thought to himself. It could be from Voldermort or someone else… His thoughts were broken when his cousin, Dudley, came storming into the room, grabbing Harry by the collar of his shirt and lifting him off of the bed.

"Where is it?" Dudley roared.

"What?" Harry choked, as he tried to break free of his cousin's grasp...

"Don't be smart! Now, where is it?"

"I don't have any idea what you're talking about!"

"Oh, don't lie, Harry! You know what I'm talking about."

"WHAT?" Harry finally hollered, managing to finally squirm out of the grip on his collar. He panted, and so did his cousin.

"What are you talking about?" Harry finally asked.

"My letter." Dudley scowled.

"What letter?"

"From Kara…"

"Kara?! Who's that? Your girlfriend?"

"Yeah," Dudley barely whispered.

"Oh, how cute, Diddykins has an iddy girlfriend!"

"Shut up."

"Why? You've been bragging to your parents about her all summer!"

"Shut up!"

"And, you've been bragging to all the guys, too!"

"SHUT UP!"

Before Harry knew it, his cousin had him by the throat and was pushing him against the wall.

"At least I have a girlfriend!" Dudley scowled.

"Yeah," Harry choked, his breath leaving his lungs, "But, I have girls chasing me everywhere I go, and all you have is this Kara girl…"

"Geeze, will you just tell me where my letter is already?"

"I already told you, I have no idea."

"Well, have you seen a piece of paper lying around anywhere?"

"There's one in the kitchen, if you look…"

In a flash his cousin was off of him and out the door so fast, Harry could have sworn he was running. Harry let himself fall, his back against the wall. He inhaled, savoring the air he was breathing into his lungs. He touched his neck, as if making sure it was there and noticed the letter he had been holding, before Dudley had grabbed him, lying on the floor in front of him. He picked it up, and placed it in his pocket, as he stood up.

He glanced at the clock; it now read 11:00am. Man! Harry thought, I can't believe I just wasted an hour of my life... of my pathetic, mortal life... He blinked hard, as if he had something in his eye, and fiddled with his glasses. He reopened the door, walked down the hall and down the stairs into the hallway by the front door. He had his hand on the knob when his uncle came to his ears.

"And where do you think you're going?" his Uncle asked him.

"On a walk," Harry scowled.

"If you find Dudley, tell him his mother and I want him back in this house."

"I'll do that…if I find him."

He turned the knob, and was gone, walking down the street. It was now noon, but the sky was dark, and black rain clouds hung over head, as Harry walked down Privet Drive and onto Newberry Drive. He, Harry, always seemed to escape the Dursley's home, and walk around aimlessly. He had never once gotten lost, for he was lost already. When he walked, he was alone, but when he was surrounded by people, he was also alone.

He turned the corner and was now walking towards the park, where, no matter what route he took, he always ended up. He climbed over the gate, and sat on one of the swings. Now that he thought of it, he was alone. Sure, he had friends, and he sort of had a family, but other then that, in the way that he was traumatized, he was alone. He had no one who really knew how he felt, not even Hermione or Ron.

As he thought this, his hand seemed to wonder into his pocket, and he pulled out the letter he had put in there only a half-an-hour before. He gently opened it and, again, didn't recognize the handwriting. But he thought back to Ron's and Hermione's letters, and suddenly remembered that new girl that they wrote about. He began to wonder if this letter was from her…he inhaled and began to read the last letter…

Dear Harry Potter,

My name is Rouge Smith and I am sixteen years old. I will be joining Hermione, Ron and you at Hogwarts this year, and am proud to say that I know a lot for someone who has never gone to Witch and Wizarding School before now. I know how to defend myself in battle, which I proved this over the past school year. I can even produce a corporeal Patronus, which, I may add, is a black jaguar.

I wanted to tell you something that Professor Dumbledore told me you, more then any of your or my friends, need to know. About a week before you were fighting Voldermort last school year, something happened in the muggle world…and it happened to me.

I awoke one night from a horrible dream and found the house that my parents and I lived in completely empty. I walked from my room into the downstairs kitchen, and was startled by a large explosion outside the house. I quickly put on my jacket and ran outside to see what had happened...I thought that there would be people lining the street, like my neighbors, to see what had happened, but there wasn't...When I looked into the street, I saw a car. It seemed as if it had hit another car, but there was no other car insight. The car had exploded, which was caused by a gas leak of some sort. As I looked closely at the car, it began to seem so familiar. It looked exactly like the black Minivan that belonged to my parents. As if thinking that there was no way that this could be my parents car, I looked into the drive-way, (I was standing in the middle of the road) and saw nothing. It was completely empty, as was my house and heart. The vehicle on the street, the wrecked mess of scrap metal, was the car that my father drove me to school in when I missed the bus...the car my mother drove me to guitar in...and the car we drove in on our way to the movies. I then ran into the house, grabbed the portable phone, and quickly ran back into the street. I called 911 (I'm from the United States) and they told me that someone was on their way. I waited and it seemed like forever, but no one came. I was in denial, and wouldn't let myself believe that they were really gone, that my parents were...I was praying that it wasn't true, when I saw a black-hooded figure stand from the mess. "Who are you?" I yelled. I did not receive an answer, but the figure took off his hood. Underneath were the violet-red, snake-like, slit pupils that I now know to hate...underneath was Voldermort. I ran, at the time I didn't know that it was him (though I did believe you, my parents didn't), but he caught up quickly. He cornered me, and even tried to kill me...but I wouldn't let it end that way. I took my wand (which I always kept in a pocket...I was fully dressed...) and pointed straight at him. I whispered a spell that my mother (who taught me all types of magic since I was of the age of five) had taught me. A large, dark gray jaguar appeared from the white mist that had erupted from the tip of my wand. It attacked Voldermort, and he fled. I had never used that much magic before and quickly became unconscious.

I have grown to hate Voldermort, and hate him even more now. The reason why he had killed my parents, I later found out, was that he wanted me to become a Death Eater. You see, Harry, I have learned black magic from my mother, but I have also learned white, pure, or light magic. My mother, who had always feared Voldermort's return, taught me black magic so that I could defend myself against Voldermort and his Death Eaters. I have always used magic for good, and will always use it for only good intentions or to heal. I am a very powerful witch, and, if I ever needed to, have the power to kill. I know the Avada Kendra and can produce it fully and almost as powerfully as Voldermort himself. I did try to use it on him that night, but was unsuccessful, for he predicted my spell and quickly defended himself.

I have joined you, your friends, and the Order in their war against Voldermort. I shall do as you wish of me, and shall only serve you, your friends, and Order members. You and your friends can always trust me. Please, if there is anything I can do for your cause, just tell me.

Rouge

Harry was amazed; this girl had been through so much already, but was putting her faith in him. She was going to help him and the rest of them. He couldn't help but smile; he was so happy that someone, that he didn't even know, trusted him, and believed everything he had said the year before. Now, more then ever, Harry wanted to go back to Hogwarts. Last year, all he wanted to do was leave; he had gotten so sick of people not believing him, or thinking that he had lost his mind.

He swung on the swing for a while, staring into the sky. He felt the wind on his face, and he had the sudden urge to go flying on his Firebolt. His Firebolt was his pride and joy; it was given to him by his late godfather, Sirius, and reminded him of the good times he had had with Sirius. As he wondered this, the scene from the Department of Mysteries came to him, and he shut his eyes tightly, as if to erase the memory.

He had gone to the Department of Mysteries almost every night since he had gotten back from Hogwarts. He hated how, in his dreams, when he walked down the rows, he always came to the one where his prophecy was, and then found himself in the room where he had lost everything, where he had lost Sirius. He hated going to sleep each night, because he knew that he would always go back to the place of Sirius' death. Harry had tried everything so that he didn't go to sleep each night, even drinking muggle coffee...but nothing worked. He found himself in the Department every night, always waking up in a cold sweat. But the Department wasn't the only thing he visited in his dreams...

He usually went to the graveyard, where he had witnessed Cedric Diggory's death, and witnessed his own torture. (In his dreams, it was as if he was watching from someone else's view) Sometimes, he was in a house, watching as a girl and her parents fought, or as the girl cried and screamed at someone who wasn't there. The girl in his dream would sometimes even whisper the name Voldermort in her sleep, as if that was the invisible person that she sometimes screamed at. Often times, the girl would be writing in a small journal that Voldermort had visited her again, and that, again, no one could see him but her. She even talked to Harry some nights, soothing him as he watched himself being tortured, watched Cedric dying, or even watched in horror as his godfather died.

This girl in his dream, she seemed so real. She had long, dark brown hair, with black and green highlights, the deepest blue eyes he had ever seen, was tall (but shorter then him) and was thin. She was also pretty pale, but had some color to her. Her voice was soothing to him, as if she had that power over people. She felt so alone, in his dreams, as if she had lost everything...

He sighed and again looked at his watch; 5:30 he read. He stood there, when he heard a voice say, "Psst! Harry!" He jumped; and looked over at the gate to the park. There stood three figures. Two of them ran over to him and embraced him. It was then that he realized that they were his two best friends, Ron and Hermione. He hugged them back; they hadn't changed a bit, except that Ron had grown about another inch, but then, so had he. They pulled away; Ron cleared his throat and looked behind them, where a girl there age stood. Harry looked at her, and gasped.

She had dark brown hair, with black and green streaks, that went down to, about, her mid back, beautiful, piercing, blue eyes, and pale, pink lips. She was obviously shorter then Ron and himself, and she was a bit pale. She stood there, staring at the night, looking lost. She wore long, black pants, a pocket wallet-chain, a red T-shirt (that said You Laugh Because I'm Different...I Laugh Because You're All The Same), and, what looked like, red converses. She also wore black eye makeup. She was gorgeous...and she was the girl in Harry's dreams.

"Harry," Ron said, "This is Rouge."

At the mention of her name, the girl walked over to them and sort of smiled. She shook Harry's hand.

"Hi," she said, "I'm Rouge."

"Harry," he murmured.

"Cool, so you're the guy I've heard so much about...so many good things."

"Yeah," said Hermione, "that would be Harry..."

"And," said Ron, "He's the one you want to talk to about quidditch!"

"You like quidditch?" Rouge asked Harry.

"Yeah," he murmured, "Why, do you?"

"Oh, I love it! My cousins and I used to play all the time before-"

She cut herself short, and looked down at the grass. Harry understood, she was still mourning the death of her parents. He tried to change the subject back to quidditch.

"You play?" he asked, "What position?"

"Seeker," she said, looking up at him.

"Hey guys," Ron said, "Why don't we go sit on the swings?"

"Okay," said Harry.

They all walked over to the swings and sat on one. Ron sat on the last one on the right, Hermione sat next to him, Harry sat nest to Hermione, and Rouge sat next to Harry. After they had all sat down, Harry restarted his conversation with Rouge on quidditch.

"Harry played seeker too," said Ron.

"Really?" Rouge said.

Harry nodded, "Yeah, but I got kicked off the team last year."

"Why'd you get kicked off?"

"Got in a fight..."

"Stupid reason, if you ask me."

"Yeah I know..."

"I hate asking this but...how good were you?"

"He was the best!" exclaimed Ron, "If he wanted to, he could drop out of school and go join a professional team!"

"I bet you miss it," Rouge whispered.

"Yeah," Harry answered, "I guess I do. It's just that...the way flying makes you feel it's incredible. It's like you're a bird, and yet you're not. Do you get what I'm saying?"

"Yeah," she said. "When I learned to fly...God! It was the greatest feeling ever! I could escape everything, and go anywhere I wanted...of course; I had to sneak out at, around, one in the morning...to get away from the fighting." She whispered that last part to herself, but Harry had heard her.

He pondered what this meant until he heard Rouge ask him, "So, what other sports do you like?"

"I dunno," he said, "I like quidditch...and that's it."

"Hey, Ron," Hermione said. Shouldn't we be going?"

Ron jumped up. "Yeah, come on!"

"Wait," said Harry, "late for what?"

"We're taking you the hell out of here," Ron exclaimed.

Harry smiled, "What about my stuff?"

"It's already at headquarters."

Harry felt his joy die. Ron had said headquarters, meaning that they were going to Grimlaud Place. He shuddered to think what it was like now. They probably kept it the same, in memoriam of Sirius. They were walking out of the park now, and Rouge was tapping him on the shoulder.

"Hmm?" he asked.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"I just thought that...well..."

"Did they tell you what happened?" he asked suddenly.

"Well, yeah," she said. "Dumbledore said I should know...just like you he said I should let you know about..."

A lone tear ran down Rouge's cheek and she looked down at the ground. She kept walking and became speechless; Harry realized how much pain she was going through. He felt bad for her, and yet knew that she didn't want the pity. After all, he didn't want it, so why would she? He guessed that people who had lost everything were stronger then those who had everything, and he would know.

They tramped in the wet grass, until Hermione nudged Rouge. Rouge lifted her head and they all stopped walking. Harry looked over at Ron who mouthed the words just watch. So, he turned his eyes to Rouge, who had pulled out her wand. She whispered something and flicked her wand, and, as she did this, a portal opened up. Harry's eyes got eyes, and, smiling, Ron nudged him.

"Great, ain't she?" he asked.

"Amazing at magic, if you ask me," he whispered.

He stood there in aw as Ron, Hermione, and Rouge walked into the portal. Rouge, being the second-to-last, smiled at him and asked him if he was coming, or staying.

"Coming," he murmured, before walking into the portal, behind her, finding himself in Number 12, Grimlaud Place.

Chapter Two

A Story to be Told

Harry looked around; they hadn't changed a thing. It looked a bit cleaner since the last time he had been there, but other then that, it was the same. They were standing in what looked like the room Hermione and Rouge shared. It was a fairly large room, with two beds on either half. Each girl had their own side of the room; both were a bit different, especially since Rouge was now temporarily living here.

He smiled as he spotted Hermione's side; it was neat and clean. There wasn't a single thing wrong or out of place. Her trunk was neatly lying in the corner, next to her bed. Her bed had even been made! She had a mirror, and a small desk. Lying on the desk was a singe text book and a pencil.

Rouge's side was totally different; though it was neat and clean, there was no mistaking that she was different then Hermione. She had posted band poster all over her half of the room; so many that the only way that you could tell that the wall and ceiling were painted off-white, was to look over at Hermione's half of the room. There were posters of punk bands, such as Green Day, (Which most of the posters were of Green Day, obviously Rouge's favorite band) blink-182, Operation Ivy, and even a poster of RelientK. Her trunk was also neatly sitting in the corner by her bed, which was not made. Her clothes were hanging in the closet, obviously all "punkish" clothes.

Rouge smiled and sat on her bed. She nervously looked around, and sighed to herself, "Home was so much better," before taking a small piece of paper out of her jean pocket, and gently placing it on the bed. Harry watched her intently, and when she caught him, she smiled warmly at him.

"RON?" came a yell from downstairs.

"Oh, great," murmured Ron, "mum heard us."

Hermione and Rouge glanced at each other and laughed. Harry looked from them to Ron, and then back to the two girls. Rouge and Hermione were whispering things to each other, while Ron ran downstairs to see his mother. Harry sat down on the bed, (Hermione and Rouge sat on the edge of Rouge's bed), and watched them. He couldn't help but realize how empty Rouge's eyes were, and how much she faked her smiles. He was dragged out of his thoughts when he heard Hermione ask, "What's that note on the bed Rouge?"

Rouge grabbed the folded paper from her bed, and played with it in her hand. "Oh, this? I really don't know...Dumbledore gave it to me." She unfolded it and gasped.

"What?" Hermione asked. Harry got up and sat next to Rouge.